Cassiopeia Meissa Lestrange Part III: Dark Times Ahead
by tibys
Summary: Cassiopeia Lestrange-Daughter of Bellatrix of Rodolphus. Part III follows her post Hogwarts career through the second wizarding war where she must decide where her loyalties lie, confronting her family, her demons, her past, and her parents. Rated M for extreme violence, trauma, psychological violence and torture later. Please read Part I and Part II before. Fairly canon
1. Chapter 1: The Interview

_A/N Welcome to Part III, If you have not read Part I and Part II of Cassiopeia Lestrange, please go and read those first. I pick up not long after the end of Part II and do not give many recaps for the references made in earlier stories. Part III is the final part of this story, and will follow as close to canon as possible with an OC. I will try and update this story as quickly as possible, and though 45 pages is already written, it is not in order so bear with me._

 _Anyways, hope you enjoy and please give it a follow, and if you have time, reviews are appreciated (especially since i agonised over this chapter and my fabled post Hogwarts educational system which I was trying to base on some medieval apprenticeship schemes mixed with modern apprenticeships.)_

 _tibys_

Life post Hogwarts was a strange mix between the formalised educational format of universities and the on the job training offered by the apprenticeship system. At least for those going forth into the world with blind ambition and a hope to be something more than just a shopkeeper or secretary.

Not that there was anything wrong with either of those positions, but for the few who scored particularly well on their final examinations, and held lofty dreams, it simply didn't cut it.

While most were motivated at least in some form by ego, Cassiopeia was motivated by something much more selfish, a foolhardy belief in a sort of cosmic point system that by doing good and helping people in a hospital like setting she could negate all of the evil she had unleashed into the world. She knew she was a monster, and she was trying to balance this by being a good person. And being a good person meant helping people as far as she understood from years of observation in her post parental separation life. In reality Cassiopeia lacked the genuineness of a good person, and she while she was sincere in her hopes, it still didn't change the fact that she often found herself doing things that good people wouldn't do.

She had been raised in violence, taught to harness and embrace such actions, and had survived for more than half of her life by her ability to take a hit and to return one back. She had dominated every orphanage she had ever been in, proving her strength within the hierarchy of the abandoned children, and had even earned her mother's love in a cruel, twisted way by owning and becoming her anger and rage. She controlled her anger and violence admirably, most completely ignorant to the fact that she spent a vast majority of her free time either fighting other, often larger, opponents or unleashing her pent up energy at gigs around the city, pushing and shoving with other angry and passionate youths, screaming to be heard and understood in the pits.

Cassiopeia perhaps tried too hard to prove she was a good person in her career and in her world, where she was infamous for her heritage and where a reputation preceded her born out of lies and twisted truths from a rather disastrous romantic relationship. She wasn't blind to the fact that she was perhaps not the average, media taught version of good or nice, but she did care.

She used her family's admittedly large fortune to start record labels, to organise shows, to prop up struggling independent venues, and to create a community center and a co operative living community in a world that was not her own. She organised a community garden that taught people how to be self reliant in the face of injustice and indignity, and how to band together to form a greater whole, united and strong. And she did it all anonymously, working through her solicitor and a few well placed suggestions and gentle nudges of the right people.

She helped fight the system through direct organisation and through passive self reliance. In that world she often went by a different name, forged a different identity that was all her own, and was her respite from the realities of her own life. It was sacred and private, nobody who knew her, including her closest family, saw her other life beyond what couldn't be avoided. Every visit to her family they would be cautiously delighted and curious about the artwork that had started as a one off tattoo on her shoulder that slowly grew further and further down her right arm and up collarbone to lick the bottom of her neck. She filled her skin with artwork of her friends, casual doodles or magical creatures, interspersed with particularly meaningful runes and symbols. It was a mess individually, but together formed a sort of chaotic harmony that she built upon and that she felt representative of her very person. It was almost enough to block the stain of her mother's curse on her wrist, a tracking spell that had been with her for a decade a permanent reminder of who she really was.

Cassiopeia was growing as an individual, flourishing in the freedom and sanctuary of her own flat, a space that very few had visited, and even fewer knew of the location. She kept it a secret, preferring to live anonymously amongst the muggles, away from the reaches of nearly every single person who knew her in the wizarding world. She had only reluctantly told one person in the wizarding world where she lived, a necessary by product of needing a cosigner for the lease, but she was certain he would never utilise the information.

Her flat was her safe space, filled with everything she loved. It was small and run down, in a slightly dodgy part of Bristol, the entrance in an alleyway near several rowdy bars and nightclubs. She had a window overlooking the street, where she could watch the drunken revelry and causal drug use and law breaking at all hours of the day. Her furniture was third and fourth hand, ratty and thoroughly broken in, she had a large library, muggle appliances, a wall of records, a reasonable sound system. She spent her free time in her flat taking apart muggle electronics, figuring out what made them tick, and building her own newer devices, a hobby that left dozens of half gutted electronics littered around her flat. Magic was absent, a necessity since her only visitors were her muggle friends, who would often stop by unannounced and often off their face on some substance or another.

She discovered that she was a creature of habit, frequenting the same local spots for food, drink, and entertainment. She set up standing dates to socialise with her family-her early attempts to mend her strained relationships with them. She had moved out quite suddenly and with no warning, something her aunt and uncle felt stung by so she made time to be with them. She spent an afternoon together with her Aunt Andromeda on the third thursday of the month. Her and her Uncle Ted would go to the arcade on the second and fourth tuesday of the month. It was a routine she enjoyed, and the routine made her extra paranoid about others finding out where she lived. She didn't mind if muggles dropped in unannounced, but the idea of wizards popping by, especially if they were parental figures, was abhorrent for some reason.

Cassiopeia was private, and she wanted to keep it that way. So for every trip taken into the magical world she would apparate to a minimum of four random locations before come home, trying to confuse anyone who would try and follow her. She wasn't certain who would be interested in following her, or why, but her paranoia didn't require logical answers to those questions.

As much as she enjoyed her flat and the freedoms it came with, she had left Hogwarts only two months ago and it was finally time for her to start the next step in her career as a curse breaker.

Before entering into a curse breaking apprenticeship, a prospective student had to be accepted by one of three theoretical programmes in the UK to train for one year in a safe, educational, lecture led study. The ministry ran their own programme based out of London, there was a programme in York in northern England, and a final one tucked away in the sleepy seaside Welsh town of Aberystwyth, hidden in plain sight near the old university.

Cassiopeia was accepted into all of the programmes and opted for the quiet seaside town in Wales over the other two, attracted to the tranquility of the sea and the surrounding countryside. It had been exciting at first, to undertake a course specifically for curse breaking, a subject she had been studying for years but it quickly became apparent that the programme was aimed at students who had little to no previous experience in either curse breaking or theoretical charms work.

The classes ranged from spell diagrams, to the understanding and translation of ancient runes, including their relation to charm work. It was boring. She spent her classes staring out the window, overlooking the sea and the Victorian waterfront, listlessly counting down the days until she could finally learn something useful, or finally start her apprenticeship and do some real hands on training.

Her particular lecturer found her inattention maddening, and frequently called on her to solve the days lesson in the hope to humiliate her in front of the others in the class. She would always unravel the spell diagram presented immediately, and was able to translate complicated series of runes with little effort. It annoyed her lecturer, which she found amusing, and it was the only break to her boredom.

When she became more of a nuisance than anything, the director of the programme reluctantly allowed her take the final exam nearly eight months early, after only a single quarter of beginner classes. He had been certain she would fail it, hoping it would deflate her ego and force her to take her studies seriously.

He had been quite shocked when she not only finished it with a near perfect score, she completed it in nearly record time. Nothing of the sort had ever happened in the 150 year history of formalised post-Hogwarts education programmes. So after a short few months she took her leave of the Welsh town, returning to her home in Bristol, and began preparing for the next step of her applications, nearly a year ahead of where she planned to be.

The apprentice scheme was a government initiative that aimed to provide hands on, real world experience for students to act as a bridge between formal, classroom led education and the realities of an often chaotic reality. The largest curse breaking apprenticeship programmes were offered by Gringotts bank, to assist on object and asset acquisitions-items taken from around the world, often ancient, and always valuable. It required a large amount of field work, travel, and knowledge of magic from around the world and throughout history. It was a dangerous job, often exotic, and she found it highly distasteful on the whole. Gringotts was a financial organisation that was interested in the only thing all financial organisations were, making more money. Preferably by taking it from other-in this case deceased- people and families.

But the curses they came across were often unique and rare, complicated historical puzzles that attracted Cassiopeia, a true challenge.

The second largest employer was the ministry, which always had need of curse breakers mainly for their Auror department, with a few being placed throughout to assist in any curses a ministry worker might happen upon in the course of the job. Cassiopeia had mixed feelings about the ministry, holding a deep dislike and distrust of the institutions contained within. She reluctantly applied at the urging of one of her mentors, a Mr Lionel Spavin.

Mr Spavin was the Head of Research at St Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies. He was one of her greatest supporters, always making time for her and assisting her in all of her academic endeavours. He had personally ensured she had access to all of the resources necessary to complete her independent study while at Hogwarts, and had even proofread and offered comment on her drafts, unwavering in his support. She also had him to thank for a highly unusual and irresistible apprenticeship programme he had set up to suit her particular interests.

St Mungos had little need for curse breaking apprentices, every few years they would take on a few, but their main area of education was healers and potioneers. Most of the curse breakers on staff were either from the Ministry programme, or were borrowed from Gringotts for a small fee. Because of this, there was no formal apprenticeship programme in place for Cassiopeia to apply to.

At least there wasn't until Mr Spavin created one, a part time study with the other half time taken up with the Goblins at Gringotts. It was a programme that allowed Cassiopeia to work with the exotic curses from the bank, while also helping cursed people in the hospital. He had also built in time for her to hone her spell interrogation skills by offering her a small research internship as well, assisting him to unravel particularly difficult spell mishaps.

She was just about ready to accept the position when another letter was delivered to her address. It was from the Ministry. They wanted an interview, the outcome of which would potentially mean she received the apprenticeship with the Ministry. Looking at the letter filled her with immediate trepidation, the last time she had gone there for an interview, it had felt more like an interrogation.

She had more enemies than friends in the Ministry, even her own sister refused to be seen with her for longer than was absolutely necessary, and she couldn't very well call on her Uncle Lucius to step in on her behalf. That would cause more trouble than it was worth, and would instil a debt to be owed to the man which she was loathe to do. She thought about rejecting the offer to interview immediately and accept her custom tailored course at the hospital, but she had made the mistake of asking Mr Spavin his opinion.

He suggested she take the interview. Take the interview and blow them away with her ability. And if she was feeling negatively about the work environment, give them a 'thanks, but no thanks' response. The Ministry was not used to rejection, especially their curse breakers. He was sure her saying no to them directly would be quite the slap in the face.

And so she found herself in her best robes, feeling slightly nauseous, as she waited outside a room for her interview.

xxxx

Mouths were wagging in the magical department of Law enforcement when the applications came in for the internship programs. There was always some gossip about the candidates, from their promise to their school backgrounds. However Amelia Bones was taken aback by just how lively the gossip was in the lunchroom the day of the interviews. There was always some excitement, anticipation, and dread ahead of the interview process, but this was taking it to new levels.

Curious she finally asked someone to be filled in on why everyone was in such a state. It seemed the prevailing feeling was less positive and more sharp, almost vindictive.

"Lestrange. The Lestrange girl actually had to gall to apply to the internship program here with our curse breakers. Can you imagine? With a dark family like that being taught all of our secrets and being exposed to all of those artefacts. I reckon they'll start disappearing and showing up on the black market if they hire her."

Lestrange. It had been years since she had thought about that family, and they could only be talking about young Cassiopeia Lestrange. She would never forget seeing the small, frightened eight year old girl, chained to a table as if she were the same threat as her parents had been. She had been treated like a criminal from the beginning, when she had been just as much of a victim as Amelia's own brother and his family. They had been murdered by the Lestranges.

She had been a young clerk then, a fresh face on the Wizengamot in a trying and terrifying time. She had lost nearly her whole family because of the Death Eaters. She always did wonder what happened to the girl.

The curse breaking department was an auxiliary to the magical law enforcement, and was not under her direct control. However, being the head of magical law enforcement came with certain privileges and one of them was granting her unquestioned access around the building and the meetings contained therein. With some careful rearrangement of her schedule, she was sure she could sit in on a certain interview for the incoming curse breakers.

Amelia Bones started her career in the heat of the first wizarding war. The first year of her career had seen more loss and heartbreak than the subsequent decade that followed after the war. She had learned early on to keep her emotions and reactions tightly controlled, refusing to give the Death Eaters the satisfaction of seeing her break. She was a stronger person for it, and she was thankful that the generation that followed her never developed the same skills.

It was this experience and skill that kept her face carefully passive and her gait steady as she took in the Lestrange girl. For a brief second Amelia thought it was Bellatrix Lestrange standing in front of her, young and untouched by prison. The feeling passed quickly as she noticed the differences in the witch in front of her, remembering the girl she once was. She had been a wild child, clawing at the aurors who brought her in and had to physically restrained. She had also been small, she remembered being struck by how tiny the child had been, thin and dwarfed by an untamed mane of curls.

In front of her was a woman, reasonably tall, with her hair shaved short on the sides, a few floppy curls left to run wild at the very top of her head. She had a few piercings in her ears, shining silver, and she could see the tops of tattoos licking the bottom of her neck. Her face was square, sharp like her mothers had been, with the same glittering black eyes that looked around the room warily. She held herself and moved like her mother had, like a predator, ready to attack at any moment.

While there were many similarities, the longer Amelia looked, the starker the differences became. Bellatrix had been crazed, coiled for the attack, fuelled by bloodlust and blind devotion to You-Know-Who. She had been mad, filled with a frenetic energy that was deadly and unpredictable.

This girl was anxious and uncertain. Wary of her surroundings, and defensive. She tried to walk with confidence, but a few nervous ticks gave her away. She rubbed her fingers together nervously and wiped her palms discreetly on her robes, her eyes darting around to take in her surroundings. She saw the girl swallow thickly, shifting uncomfortably in her robes, discomfited by their fit. Now that she looked, she saw the girl was actually wearing muggle clothes under the robes.

Amelia took her seat, looking at the oddity in front of her, and accepted a file from the chairman who gave her a knowing look. She was sure he fielding many requests to sit in on this particular interview, and it seemed he had managed to turn all of them down. Luckily for her, she outranked him and could come and go as she pleased, a right he was not ready to question. Returning the nod, she examined the girls school file, her eyebrows rising in surprise.

She had three recommendation letters, the most unusual combination she had ever seen, and each filled with glowing praise of the young witch. She didn't think she had ever read a recommendation from Professor Snape that had actually said the applicant was more than adequately qualified for a position, and yet the letter he wrote this witch suggested he not only thought she was adequate for the position, but that she would be an excellent addition to their department. The letter from Lionel Spavin was almost embarrassing in his heaping praise of the witch, going so far as to say she was a one in a generation academic.

Her marks reflected this well enough, successfully completing a very well received independent study, a short internship at St Mungos, and a demonstrable record of theoretical spell work dating back to her very first year at Hogwarts. She received all of the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s needed for the position, with the appropriate grades, and had written a strong application to the programme. Therefore she was quite surprised to see that the girl even had an interview to begin with. Anyone else with this record would have been accepted unconditionally.

She watched the young woman take a seat in front of the committee, looking longingly towards the door she entered from, her hand nervously fisting a handful of her robes near her knee before smoothing it out. Another nervous tick.

"Afternoon Miss Tonks." One of the gentlemen called to the girl as she sat. Amelia was surprised to see the flash of distaste cross the girls face before she responded politely, her voice light and pleasant-albeit forced.

The interview started, "How are you Miss Tonks? I am Edmonton James, chief curse breaker and this is my colleague, stepping in for my deputy who has taken ill, Porteus Gambol.

As you might know Porteus works in the Department of Magical Affairs. One of his duties in this department is to handle all investigations and security clearances for our ministry employees, it's a relatively new department that was created in the early 80s. He is here to address any potential problematic issues you might reach during your background check.

Edmonton glanced down the table at Amelia questioningly and she shook her head discreetly. She was not a part of the interview, she was a simple observer and did not want to the put the girl in a panic, lest the she remember her.

"Very well sirs, and mum. I was pleased to hear from the department regarding my application." she glanced at Amelia curiously, before turning her attention back Edmonton.

"You have a rather strong application Miss Tonks, ticking all of the appropriate boxes for admission. However we have just a few questions. You have recommendation letters from Professors Snape and Flitwick, an unusual combination, and a recommendation from Lionel Spavin over at St Mungos, is this correct?"

She nodded her affirmation, rubbing her palms against her robes.

"Yes, all made out to a Miss Tonks."

She nodded again, remaining silent.

"But Tonks isn't your birth name is this correct?"

Amelia raised her eyebrows as she examined the chair closely, noting the look of irritation that flashed across the girls face. Quite right, she thought, it was a rather uncalled for question.

"Of course it isn't sirs. That is a matter of public record, and very well known" She said tightly, keeping her voice surprisingly polite.

"And do all your referees know your particular history?" Porteus asked, his lip curling as he looked over the girl. Amelia frowned as she watched the two closely, a look of hatred and contempt flashing across his face as he took in the young woman. There was a history there, a resentment between the two that was perhaps a conflict of interest.

"I am uncertain sirs, you would have to contact them. However I am not sure how this is relevant towards my capabilities demonstrated by my independent study and school marks." Amelia was beginning to like this girl, she cut straight to the point.

"Yes, indeed. It is relevant because as you might know, we work for the department of law enforcement, handling dangerous and often highly illegal objects. Therefore we conduct the strictest background checks and screening, second only to that of the auror office. Do you understand?"

Amelia watched the girl closely, noting the colour that rose in her cheeks, and watched her take a measured breath before responding. "I understand that sir, however I have no criminal history, and no connections to witches or wizards who are currently under investigation. I have done nothing to suggest any illegal or unfavourable inclinations."

"And would you consent to answering questions under veritaserum?" Porteus Gambol asked immediately, leaning forward eagerly.

Amelia flushed in shock and indignation, the use of veritaserum was unprecedented, it was used very rarely in criminal cases, and only in highly unusual circumstances. It was never used for simple interviews to ministry programmes, not even ones in law enforcement. She opened her mouth to interject, however was beaten to it by Cassiopeia, who leaned forward, giving Gambol a sharp stare.

"Is that usual sir? To use veritaserum with no cause? I know for a fact that a position with the Aurors, a job that requires much stronger background checks and regulation, requires no such thing."

Gambol leaned forward, resting his hands on desk, glaring down at the girl, grinning sharply.

"With all due respect Miss Tonks, you have a history of associations with several notorious and dark wizards, as well a documented history of antisocial and violent behaviour at school, and Merlin knows what else if we dig into your earlier records."

Amelia returned to her file in front of her, looking for the girls behavioural record. She indeed served many detentions for fighting in her earlier educational years, but there was also a marked behavioural change as the girl approached graduation. Her record did not work in her favour, but the noted change for the better, and the combined with her sterling academic record should have been enough to admit her to the programme.

She frowned at Edmonton, the head curse breaker, who was suspiciously quiet, in consternation. She thought this interview was more to satisfy a curiosity on behalf of the department. She was beginning to realise the interview was instead an act of injustice and prejudice against a qualified candidate.

"By my history of associations sir, you of course mean my parents, Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. Perhaps my uncle Rabastan, maybe a few other wizards known as Death Eaters. I would like to remind you that willful associations differs greatly from forced associations, in my case relations I have not seen in almost a decade. We can not choose our family sir, and I have given the ministry nor this department any reason to investigate me, nor do I associate currently with any witch nor wizard who is currently, nor has ever been, considered a dark or unfavourable person.

So to answer your earlier question, no I do not consent to the use of veritaserum in my background check, and if you suggest it as a condition I will lodge a formal complaint against you and this department with the Wizengamot." The girl was frustrated and angry, and despite her best efforts to remain polite, her emotions bled into her voice. Amelia was impressed, if she were in her shoes, she would have probably lost her composure.

"You must understand why we are perhaps a bit hesitant to train someone with your particular background. The knowledge could be used to not only break curses, but create powerful curses, and since you so clearly have an affinity for theoretical charms work, a history of violence, and a family that has had a historical tendency to the dark side. I think it would be irresponsible for any programme to accept you." Gambol continued sharply, snapping her folder shut.

Amelia stared at Edmonton, who had thus far remained most silent throughout the whole interview. This Gambol character was not a curse breaker, and was really not qualified to make the decision about who should and shouldn't be accepted to the programme. He was a sit in for someone who took ill, and she was beginning to suspect the whole interview had been a set up for him to humiliate the girl. Miss Tonks for her part was silently fuming, her face now bright red and her eyes flashing with hatred for the man in front of her. Amelia wasn't sure what their history was, but it was certainly unpleasant. He was baiting her, it was clear, hoping to draw some type of reaction from her that would serve to disqualify her from the programme, and Edmonton was letting him do it.

"I obviously disagree with your assessment. I have half a mind to follow through on my previous statement of approaching the Wizengamot about this prejudicial farce of an interview, however I also can not truly find it in me to care. I never had a desire to work with the ministry curse breaking department, and have already accepted a place on a joint course between St Mungos and Gringotts. I attended this interview out of politeness more than anything. I see now this was a mistake, and if it is all the same to you sirs, mum, I think this interview is over, and I will be leaving."

Amelia once again impressed by the young woman's composure. She had every right to lose her temper with the interview committee, and yet her voice was calm, measured, if a bit tight. She had suspected the treatment she would receive in the department, and had overcome it with maturity she rarely saw in older witches and wizards.

"Before you go Miss Tonks," Amelia called suddenly,

"Madame Bones, you are here as an observer only-" she waved off the head curse breaker, who flushed angrily in indignation. Her respect for him had dropped measurably during this observation, he would be lucky to ever have a receptive audience with her in the future.

The girl paused, steps away from the door. Amelia observed the rise and fall of her shoulders as she tried to compose herself before turning around. She looked at Amelia cautiously, making no move to return to her seat.

"Why do you want to be a curse breaker? What drew you to this particular subject?" She glared at both the men at the table who opened their mouths to respond to her question, silencing them immediately, if reluctantly.

She was watching the Tonks girl closely, noting the way her eyes darted to the side as she tried to find the words to answer. It was a rather philosophical question, and Amelia was satisfied to see the girl actually thought about the question and her answer, instead of giving a generic response.

"Mr Gambol is not wrong, I do have experience with curses. More than anyone else my age arguably, more than most would have in their lifetime." her voice was very serious as she focussed on the ground in front of her instead of the interview panel, "I have seen what they can do to a person, I know what it's like to be caught up in them." she continued, scowling now at the ground, "I don't want anyone else to ever experience that, and if someone if unfortunate enough to ever go through that, then I will work my hardest to make sure they come out whole as quickly as possible." her eyes were unfocussed as she finished, the anger almost completely melted from her face by the end of her answer.

"Does that answer your question?" her eyes sharpened as she looked up at Amelia, suspicion already blooming on her face as she awaited her response.

"Even if it was Mr Gambol who was cursed?" Amelia asked perhaps a bit unfairly, and yet undeniably curious. The Tonks girl really hated that man if the face she was making at the floor was anything to go by. But it was her response that impressed her, because without hesitation, without even thinking for a moment, considering another option she answered.

"Yes. Even if it was Mr Gambol who was the victim."

Amelia smiled at her, and nodded, before thanking her for her time.

Xxx

It took all of Cassiopeia's control and mental exercises to remain composed during the joke of a hearing and to not storm out of the room. She walked calmly out of the room, with her hands clutching her bag tightly the only thing betraying her anger.

She knew it had been a bad idea, and she wasn't surprised by the reception she received. It was an added joke that Porteus Gambol had been present, probably orchestrated just so he could take the satisfaction in denying her something she wanted.

Porteus Gambol had made it one of his missions in life to personally see to her unhappiness in life every since she had broken up with her ex-boyfriend Glynn Gambol years ago. Glynn had manipulated her and was the cause of the destruction of nearly all the relationships she had at Hogwarts. He used her as his personal weapon to attack those he disliked, and ensured her loyalty and devotion to him by taking advantage of her naivety with relationships and by controlling her drug of choice at the time, pepper up and dreamless sleep potions. She finally ended it when he convinced her to allow him to cast an unforgivable on him, the imperius curse, and had nearly killed her. Porteus and Glynn launched a smear campaign against her, hoping to discredit her and undercut her, and despite the passage of years, they each were as dedicated to their task as they had been when the feelings were raw. Nobody made a fool of Gambols apparently.

But the most annoying part, the heart of her frustration and anger was that she realised she did want to work with the Ministry. It was those cursed objects in circulation that posed the greatest risk to people. And she hadn't lied to that awful woman, who quietly watched the whole spectacle, Cassiopeia hated the idea of innocent people getting caught up in curses, she had seen it happen too much in her life, and she had done nothing to stop it then. Just thinking about her sister being cursed was enough to make her feel ill, remembering vividly the sounds of her cursed laughing echoing off the walls of the small Tonks household, and the thought that it could happen again, and she was powerless to help was physically painful.

Cassiopeia had accidentally cursed her adopted sister years ago, an incident that Nymphadora had never forgiven her for even to this day. It ate away at Cassiopeia, knowing she was the cause of strain and stress in the Tonks family. She had been trying to make amends, but so far her efforts were met with total silence from the elder Tonks child.

She made it down a few hallways before she darted around a corner into a quiet hallway, dropping her bag on the ground and resting her back against the cold marble, allowing her head to fall back in a dull thunk against the wall. She huffed out a deep breath, and squeezed her eyes tight as she tried to process her frustration and anger, acknowledging the rage and hatred swirling around inside of her in the face of such injustice.

That was the key to handling her emotions, identifying the offending feeling, accepting it, and burying it. She kept her anger in a fortified iron box, buried deep in the back of her head, behind a whole series of mental barriers she had designed intentionally to keep it isolated. It had been a cool trick learned from her former Head of House, one that she suspected he relied on heavily as well. And so she took the time to lose herself in her mind, sorting through her tangle of emotions and quarantining the offending ones, and finding her calm centre.

She was a Lestrange, and everyone was waiting for her to lose her temper, to prove she was just as bad as her parents had been. It was imperative she never give them that satisfaction, both for her own well being and for the sake of the Tonks family. No matter how much she wanted to punch a wall, or Gambol's gloating face, she had to retain her calm.

"Cass? What the hell are you doing here?"

Her eyes shot open and she straightened up quickly to attention as she looked at Nymphadora Tonks, resplendent in her scarlet Auror Cadet robes. She looked good, Cassiopeia thought distantly. She looked healthy, physically fit, confident. Auror training was doing wonders for her. It was a shame her good looks were spoiled by a nasty scowl that currently sat on her face.

"Did you really come here to track me down because I haven't responded to your owls? Merlin Cass, that's a bit extreme. Can't you read between the lines?" She sounded irritated, as she shifted foot to foot, her eyes rapidly changing colours.

"Er...Actually-"

"Oh Miss Tonks! I am so happy to catch you before you left." The woman who had sat in on her interview bustled down the hallways, interrupting the two girls as she looked between them carefully.

Nymphadora looked surprised as she took in the woman, straightened fully, and putting her hands behind her back, and nodding respectfully.

"There isn't a problem here is there?" the woman asked cautiously, still eyeing Nymphadora carefully, concern on her face.

"No marm, this is my sister, Auror Cadet Tonks. She was just asking how it all went." Cassiopeia said smoothly, raising her eyebrows at her sister.

The woman nodded, "Ah yes, Alastor's protege. Well I do not want to interrupt but perhaps I can have a word with you in private Miss Tonks?"

Cassiopeia nodded hesitantly, somewhat alarmed by the wide eye look Dora was sending her behind the womans back, "See you later Dora." she nodded at her sister before following the strange woman to her office.

Her office was large. Very large, with a view over the bustling atrium of the Ministry. It was filled with books and trinkets, a few maps indicating spell activity around the country, and a few fugitive posters. She took a seat in front of an intimidating wooden desk, folding her arms politely in front of her.

"I am Amelia Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I deal mainly with the bureaucratic and political side of the office, as well as the prosecution of suspects in our custody. You may not remember me, it was so long ago, but we met once, I was working as a representative of the Wizengamot back then, and was assigned your case."

Cassiopeia sat back and looked at the woman closely. Yes, she did remember her. Her hair had grayed a bit in the ten years, and she had a few more lines on her face, but there was no mistaking it, she was the woman who had kept her out of Azkaban, the foil to Mr Crouch.

Her parents had also killed a rather significant portion of her family as well, if she remembered correctly.

Cassiopeia nodded, "Yes, you helped me then. As well as you could." she affirmed.

"I must admit, I was rather surprised to hear about you coming in today for your interview, it had not occurred to me that so much time had already passed. I always wondered what became of you, how you found the muggle world. It was a cruel punishment, but unfortunately the only option Crouch would accept at the time. He no longer works in this department, if you're curious. He was moved after the war."

"The muggle world went as well as one could expect." she said slowly, suspicion still lining her voice. She hated meeting people from her past, they often treated her as a spectacle, and it appeared this woman was wasting Cassiopeia's time for her own curiosity.

"I just had to sit in, and frankly I am disgusted by your treatment by our curse breaking department. I looked at your file, your qualifications far exceed what we normally accept for our course breakers, and it is our loss to have you working at a hospital or on vaults with the Goblins."

Cassiopeia shrugged, trying to not get her hopes up as the woman spoke, wondering if she had found a champion in the Ministry.

The woman eyed her critically, her lips pursed as she thought. "If we were having this conversation about you working for the Wizengamot, it would be a very different matter. I, unfortunately in this instance, have no power over the training for either the aurors or the curse breakers. Certain oversight was stripped from this position after abuses came to light after the last wizarding war.

But, I have a long memory Miss Tonks, and having seen your record and read your recommendations, I think you will be one hot commodity with no shortage of job offers upon your completion of training. I only can hope that you do not hold this experience against us in the future, and that you might consider a job here after your apprenticeship." she said.

"But doesnt the ministry only hire from those trained within the ministry?" She asked, wondering how this woman could even suggest she work there in the future.

"Normally yes, for day to day curse breaking around the offices. But in certain circumstances we are open to more, shall we say, varied backgrounds and expertise. I can't say more, but just know that your hopes of working here, of helping people, shouldn't die in that interview room. I've seen your file and i'm sure you'll catch the eye of a few more influential people as your career progresses.

I am sorry for how today went, but believe me when I say it was a pleasure to meet you once more, and I am happy to hear that you found family in the Tonks household. I wish you all the luck for your training, and I am certain we will cross paths again." Amelina Bones had led Cassiopeia to the door, dismissing her with a warm smile.

She left the office as quickly as she thought polite trying the fight the wave of frustration slowly overtaking her body. It had been a bad day, the whole idea of even applying there had been a bad idea. She knew that now, and was determined to go home, take a hot bath, drink a few whiskeys, listen to some records, and if she was lucky, get stuck into a bar fight somewhere in the city. Merlin knew she needed the stress relief.

Naturally she was interrupted from leaving the damned department by her sister, who had been hovering near the entrance waiting for her.

"Cass! What was that all about? Why was Amelia Bones looking to talk to you?" she called, stopping the girl from escaping to her solitude.

"Nymphadora, I have been trying to get a hold of you since I graduated. It's been months of unanswered owls and the cold shoulder. And now, when you are possibly one of the last people I want to talk to right now, you are insisting on interrupting me." she huffed, feeling her tight control on her emotions slip as she spoke, a hot flash of anger colouring her voice.

"Dont. Call. Me. Nymphadora." The girl was overly dramatic about it, changing her hair colour to a bright angry red, and scowling darkly. Cassiopeia rolled her eyes and attempted to get around her.

"Look, if you want to talk, answer one of my bloody letters. I am not in the mood for any of your melodramatic distaste of me right now." she growled, stepping around her.

"Just tell me what you were doing with the Head of Magical Law Enforcement?" she called, stepping in front of Cassiopeia once more, blocking her path.

"Answer my letter." She repeated, bodily pushing Dora into the wall and hurrying away. She was fairly certain pushing Aurors was against the law, but she wasn't sure whether that law applied to Auror Cadets whom she also happened to be related to and she wasn't keen to find out.

It had been a rotten day, and she didn't really want to linger in case it was actually a misdemeanour. It would be just like Dora to push charges for something as petty as a push.

Dora responded three days later, three sentences. A date, a time, and a pub.

 _A/N So the way i've set up the post Hogwarts career...Auror Cadets go into a training programme like a police academy that lasts several years. The head of magical law enforcement i am seeing more like a district attorney deal, a position that oversees all prosecutions of criminals and the legislation and regulation side of the things. I think the aurors have their own political and administrative representatives, to remain independent of the prosecution. different apprenticeships for different specialisations, so Cass is on a joint one, more work, but more rewarding. Also see the educational programmes as like university courses that one would get in their first year-introduction stuff to prepare for fieldwork of increasing intensity over time. make sense?_

 _comments and critiques are appreciated..._

 _tibys_


	2. Chapter 2: Sister or Cousin

Cassiopeia was thirty minutes early to her meeting with her adopted sister, feeling like the conversation she wanted to have with her required the liquid courage. The longer she lived on her own, the more time and space she had, the more she was able to reflect on her life and the people contained within it.

Cassiopeia was estranged from her adopted sister, graduated from Hogwarts with top honours and no friends, had a grand total of one romantic relationship which had been mentally manipulative and damaging. She had half of a relationship with her Aunt and Uncle Malfoy, one built on many unspoken secrets and regrets, and her relationship was strained with her Aunt and Uncle Tonks who had adopted her years ago and pulled her from that muggle shithole of a group home.

Sure, she had plenty of muggle friends. Her _only_ friends were muggles, but they didn't even know her real name. They knew nothing of the wizarding world, her background, her real life. They saw what she wanted them to see, and though she loved them and cared for them dearly, she could never let them in to see the real her. Merlin, her closest friend at this point was her old head of school, a man she was quite certain disliked her nearly as much as he disliked Gryffindors.

Cassiopeia seemed to have problems making and keeping friends. The common theme behind all of these problems was her own self destructive actions. She acknowledged she had been a difficult person to talk to, that she had been unreasonable and paranoid for most of her life, unwilling to trust anyone around her. She was brash, stubborn, irritable, and secretive. She had pushed everyone who ever tried to get to know her away, and was trying to make amends now. She needed to try and let people in, help them understand why she was the way she was, and make a good, honest effort, to make meaningful connections. It was all very easy to say, but it was a difficult thing in practice.

And she wanted to reconnect with her sister, because in her head, that's what Nymphadora was to her. Not her cousin-Draco was her cousin and she rarely spoke to him. She cared very little about his day to day, his hopes and dreams. They were not close.

But Dora, she had spent almost half of her life with Dora. They had been close as kids, spending the summers at arcades and roller rinks, eating pizza and consuming fizzy drinks. They bonded over movies and music, they had been proper family with all the ups and downs before the whole cursing incident, and Cassiopeia liked to think that if they had met today, they would even be friends. She admired her sister and hated that their relationship was so fractured, that Dora barely tolerated being in the same room as her during major holidays. She hated that she was only tolerated for the sake of her parents, and she hated how upset both Ted and Andromeda were about their broken relationship.

Cassiopeia often couldn't help being paranoid and private, it wasn't an accident that she ended up like that, but she wanted to try. She had started with Andromeda and Ted, taking them out separately to try and strengthen their relationships. Her and Andromeda would often wander around the muggle world, taking in the strange delights fabricated with technology instead of magic, spending time at places such as the cinema and amusement parks. With Ted, she had a standing date every month to meet at a large arcade near his house, where they would duel each other on Mortal Kombat or occasionally attempt to push the other off the leaderboard on Pac Man or Space Invaders.

His birthday was in a few weeks and she was planning on surprising him with a muggle gaming device that had just been released, the coveted Super Nintendo Entertainment System. She had even purchased a few games for them to play immediately, she was quite keen to have a go as well.

The Tonks had been understanding and receptive to her efforts to try and foster a more open and healthy relationship. She had more than few heart to heart conversations where she let her guard down fully in an attempt to communicate to them how grateful she was for everything they had done for her. It was easy for them though, they had never been truly mad at her. Frustrated perhaps, worried definitely, but they never hated her. They both had known Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange personally. They didn't fully know what her life was like growing up, she had never told them, and never would if she had her way, but they could probably imagine at least parts of it.

Their imagination was bleak enough, she didn't want to spoil it by letting them know about her reality.

But Nymphadora was a different story. She couldn't confidently say that Nymphadora didn't hate her. And she understood why Dora would perhaps hate her, Cassiopeia had done nothing but bring drama, stress, and pain into both her and her parents lives.

Cassiopeia fought wildly and perhaps unreasonably with the Tonks elders nearly the whole time she was with them. Cassiopeia was given more leniency than Dora herself, and she had on more than one occasion, spoiled a heartwarming or happy moment by a cynical comment. When she fought with Andromeda particularly, Cassiopeia would needle and push the woman, trying to get a reaction, trying to get her to snap and do something unforgivable. Cassiopeia had been trying to get her Aunt to act like her mother, and she only ever succeeded in causing Andromeda to either break down in anguish, horror, or guilt. She brought discontent into Dora's house, spoiling her perfect childhood.

Not that Dora had been completely blameless in their tumultuous childhood. There was also the fight that left Dora with a broken nose, and the threat of a cancelled christmas. It was one of the few moments that Cassiopeia did not regret. Dora had been inconsiderate and vindictive and have revealed Cassiopeia's real identity, and frankly deserved to have her nose broken.

She did not deserved to be cursed. Something that happened not long after. Cassiopeia had a lot to be sorry for, and she wanted to apologise and try and mend her relationship with the girl, and a huge part of that was acknowledging the negativity she brought into Dora's life and take ownership of it.

Nymphadora arrived a few minutes late, rocking a particularly loud outfit and bright purple hair, drawing the attention of nearly everyone in the room. Cassiopeia resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and waved to grab the witches attention, catching the bartenders eye to indicate she needed another drink. She was really going to need it.

Dora sat, ordering herself a pint of cider, and glowered at the girl across from her suspiciously. "What were you doing talking to Amelia Bones?" she asked sharply.

"Hi Dora. Nice to see you, I am doing great, thank you for asking. How are you?" she responded sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Look, you said you'd tell me if I responded to your letters. I did. Now spill. I know you were applying for an apprenticeship with our curse breakers, and were told to jog on, but that doesn't explain what the head of Magical Law Enforcement wanted to talk to you about."

"Really? Aren't you even a little curious about why i've been trying to get a hold of you for months?"

Nymphadora shrugged, examining her nails casually. "You aren't dying, i've asked mum and dad. So whatever it is, I can't really bring myself to care honestly."

"Harsh." she grimaced, shaking her head slightly in disbelief. "Look, hear me out and i'll tell you everything you want to know about myself and Ms Bones. Deal?"

Dora rolled her eyes but nodded reluctantly.

Now that she had a somewhat receptive audience, Cassiopeia found all words fled her, all of her carefully rehearsed speeches and sentiments were suddenly MIA.

"Er...well, I guess, I just, i've had a lot of time to think, about everything, you know...since I moved out and er, I understand I haven't always been the easiest person to get on with." she stuttered, her cheeks burning.

Dora remained silent, with her eyebrows raised.

"I know I came into your life uninvited and with a whole load of shit and trouble and drama. I know I upset the household balance, and generally brought a whole slew of problems for your parents. You tried to help me, you tried to be my friend, you were nice to me, always happy to try things I wanted to do, and you even tried to warn me about Glynn. And yet I just threw all of that back into your face. I am sorry for that Dora, truly sorry. I was-am- a shitty person, and I know that. I am trying to be a better person, to not destroy everything around me, or throw people's understanding and help back in their faces. I just wanted to start fresh, and see if we could try and give our relationship another try? I want to be the sister that you deserve, and I want to be your friend. Because well...I hate that we don't get on now...if you could just give me another chance, I can show you how serious I am...and I guess, what i'm trying to say, is-" she coughed, and continued lowly, her cheeks flaming now, "I love you alright?"

Nymphadora slumped back in surprise, her eyebrows very nearly reaching her hair line. She remained silent, staring at the girl in front of her as if she had grown an extra head.

The silence dragged.

Cassiopeia fidgeted nervously, her stomach twisting with nerves.

It continued.

She took a drink.

Finally, she said, "are you bloody serious?" Nymphadora's voice was quiet, shocked, and slightly amused.

Cassiopeia fidgeted once more, running her hands nervously through her hair before taking another large pull from her whisky. "Er-yeh?" she shrugged.

"You are the biggest-euurgh!" Nymphadora leant forward, red rising in her cheeks as she clenched her fists in front of her and growled in frustration.

"You are a piece of work, do you know that? Merlin, did you really think-?" she shook her head once more, taking an angry sip of her cider.

"Did I really think what?" Cassiopeia said, feeling a touch defensive.

"That you could just bombard me with owls, give me a little speech as if you could just wipe the slate clean with some cheap words." she shook her head, anger and frustration visibly rising in the older girl, her agitation manifesting causing her hair to subtly start changing colours and length.

"Do you think this is easy for me Dora? To come out and say...that? I've only ever said those words to two other people in my life, your parents. Well and Glynn technically, but i've only ever meant them with everything I am when I said them to your family. You are my family now and that means something." Cassiopeia was tense, her eyes flashing as she tried to stem her sisters anger from growing any stronger.

"Merlin! You do not stop! Do you know why I don't like you Cassiopeia? Do you really want me to tell you? It's not for any of that bollocks you've spewed in the last few minutes." She was well worked up now, her hair now short, spiky, and a deep pulsating red.

"Fine. Enlighten me then, why don't you like me. What do I have to apologise for? Is it because I broke your nose? Because I cur- er- made a mistake? Why Dora? Please, share with the class." Cassiopeia could feel her anger pushing against the iron box she kept deep in her chest, clawing to get out, to defend.

"I don't like you because you are the most selfish, narcissistic, hypocritical person I have ever met.

You are a shitty person Cassiopeia, and you are toxic. Pure poison to everything and everyone around you, spoiling it with your drama and self destruction. And you don't even realise it, you just fall back on the age old 'woe is me, my life is so hard, I have terrible parents.' Everything you do, every problem, you fall back on that ridiculous excuse, acting like you are the only person ever to have a hard time of it, like you are all alone in having a tough time during the war. At least you got a shitload of money from it. You seem totally alright to accept access to vaults filled with treasure that was probably- no definitely, stolen from other people.

And yet in the same breath whenever someone, anyone tries to show any kindness or compassion, you just throw it back in their faces. That's what you've been doing for years with mum and dad, taking their love and using it to manipulate them. You push everyone away and spit on their attempts.

You are always the one picking fights, pushing people further and further until they just finally snap and try and hit you back. And then you complain that they were bad all along, when it was you who was pushing them to the extreme!

And now you are on about this bollocks of how you've changed and realise the errors of your ways. Mum tells me you are living with the muggles now, running so bloody co-op nonsense, and yet I bet you are still talking to the Malfoys. You claim that you are all for equal rights and anti war, anti racism, and whatever other rubbish you claim to stand for and yet you still associate with people who are clearly supremacists. By allowing their presence in her life, you are undercutting all of the supposed morals and values you claim to espouse.

Yes, we get it. You are a Lestrange. That's a shite hand to be dealt. You had to live your early life with mass murderers. So they were mean, so they would punish you harshly...boohoo, It must have been soooo hard, being rich, having house elves, and not being on the run. Well newsflash Cass, those moments represent only a small portion of your life overall. You can't keep using it as an excuse to be a shitty person.

I had to spend even longer on the run with my family, trying to understand why we couldn't talk to anyone, why I couldn't play with the other children for years. Years of looking over our shoulders, of near misses, of changing my name and having to mask who I was. The war was hard, I suffered, you suffered, most of the bloody wizarding world suffered, and you are stuck, fixated, on the past when the rest of us have moved on with our lives.

I think you are dangerous. I think curse breaking might be too much of a temptation for you. I think I will probably be arresting you in the next decade. I also think you are going to break my parents hearts, because they do genuinely care for you, and are blind to your particular brand of poison, because they are good people who can only see the best in others. And when that happens, I will never forgive you.

So no, some pretty words, some dragon shit of an 'I love you' is not going to mend our relationship. I'm not sure anything will because I do not trust you, and I don't think I ever can."

Dora was cold during her rant, her face red, her hands on the table, and her voice very serious. Cassiopeia was shocked, quiet, and indignant as the girl continued. She retreated behind her walls, slamming her mental defences up and tried to control her temper around her sister.

"You think you know me quite well then dont you?" Cassiopeia asked, her voice dangerously calm.

"Yeah, I reckon I do."

She laughed bitterly, finishing her whisky and signalling for another one, processing her sisters words and trying to restrain herself from saying anything she couldn't take back.

"Do you know what the cruciatus curse is Dora? Have they gotten to that yet in your training? Unforgivables?" she leaned forward, filled with a burning need to make the silly girl in front of her understand. She wanted to make Dora hurt, to tell her things that would fuel her nightmares for months, years to come. She wanted her to experience just a fraction of the pain that she experienced in the short time she was with her parents.

But...she paused, that would be falling into the same trap she fell for earlier. She shook her head, slumping back in defeat.

"You really don't know how bad they were Dora. I still have nightmares about them. I understand others had it just as bad or worse. That there are many who lost most of their family, I get it Dora, I really do. But you also have to understand that the way I was- and the way I am- is a direct result of that past. Just like the way you are is a result of your time in the war.

Don't give me that look, you know you were attracted to the Aurors because you didn't want anyone else to have to be as frightened and defenseless as you were as a kid. You've always stood up for other people, you stood up against me even though you must've known you would lose in a straight fight. Just think about what I said, and I hope you see I am sincere. And I won't quit trying to mend our relationship."

Dora rolled her eyes once more, finishing her pint, "Sod off Cass, I would have won that fight if it had been a fair one. You sucker punched me, and I sure as hell would win in a straight duel now."

Cassiopeia couldn't help it, a flare of competitive spirit fluttered across her chest, relieving her nerves slightly. "Yeah- tell yourself what you need to Dora to feel better."

"Name a time and place and you're on Lestrange." though her tone was fierce, there was no mistaking the upturned corners of her mouth. It was subtle, a small gesture, but it let Cassiopeia have hope that her relationship with her sister wasn't so doomed.

The pair were quiet as they studied each other, each lost briefly in their own thoughts.

"What did Amelia Bones want to talk to you about?"

"She wanted to apologise for the behaviour of the panel, Glynn's dad was sitting on it, and naturally made it a point to be both belittling and offensive. She also was curious if I remembered her, from years ago. After my parents were arrested, she had been one of the people to decide my fate. She was curious I guess. People always are." She couldn't help the bitterness that leaked into her voice. "Anyways, she told me that in the future to consider working for the Ministry, and to not let this negative experience get me down. As if i'd willingly put myself through that again."

Dora nodded, "Gambol's a git. A git with a long memory unfortunately. Luckily the Aurors are totally independent, he cant put his fat nose into our business."

Cassiopeia nodded in agreement, staring intently into the last drops of her whisky, hoping she hadn't been too obvious about how much the hearing still stung her pride. It was ridiculous to still be upset about something she knew was going to happen, she had a good apprenticeship, she was doing what she wanted to be doing. And yet it still hurt.

"So you're at the hospital then?" Dora asked quietly, edging slowly to the end of the booth.

"Yeah, kind of. I have a joint apprenticeship with the hospital three days a week and Gringotts two days a week and every other saturday. I'm technically working full time and a half to do this joint apprenticeship, but I think I can get certified faster with a wider purview. I reckon I can tick all the boxes to be finished in 18 months."

Dora shook her head, shrugging on her coat as she digested the girls words. "I couldn't believe it when mum said you had already finished the theoreticals. I can't believe you weren't a bloody Ravenclaw."

Cassiopeia just shrugged, feeling warm knowing that Dora cared enough to at least be kept slightly abreast of the details of her life via her parents. It gave her hope.

"Well, have a good life and try not to do anything illegal. See you at the next major holiday mum and dad make us attend. And stop owling me." Dora stood to take her leave, giving her sister a final nod and left as quickly as she came.

It hadn't been an ideal outcome of the their meeting, Cassiopeia reflected. But it hadn't been completely devoid of hope. And she would take everything she could get.

xxx

Dora was ravenous by the time she finally got home. She had a few practical exercises as part of her Auror training that had run massively over time and left all of the recruits without a chance to eat anything more than a quick few bites of a sandwich at lunch.

"Wicked" she exclaimed smelling the intoxicating smell of freshly delivered pizza, the box sitting like a gift from the gods on the kitchen table. After helping herself to a few slices as she searched out her parents,

"Mom! Dad! I'm home!" She shouted wondering briefly where they were. They normally ate in the dining room and there were a few slices were already missing, indicating at least someone had helped themselves to the take away meal.

"Alright Dora!" called her dad from the other room, sounding distracted

He was sitting on the floor, his back against the couch as he stared intently at the television in front of him, focussed entirely on the video game, his own slices of pizza going cold beside him.

"'Alrigh' dad," she called from the doorway frowning as she finished her first piece of pizza and discarding the crust. "Where's mom?"

"Oh she's out with your sister —"

"Cousin" she interrupted immediately

"— _sister_ at the cinema. I think they were getting drinks or some such after." He said finally looking away from the television to smile at his daughter. "It's just me and you tonight kiddo. Want to have a go? Your sister bought me a new game."

Dora rolled her eyes before plopping down on the couch with an 'oomph', not bothering with the fact that she was still in her work clothes.

"She's not my sister dad. You know that. Stop calling her that, it sends the wrong message." she groused.

Ted frowned as he maneuvered his game character out of danger, jumping over obstacles.

"She is my daughter as much as you are Dora. Nothing can change that. I wish you could feel the same about her, you used to back in the day."

Dora scoffed, finishing her third slice of pizza and finally feeling less desperately hungry. "She's not my sister. Never was and never will be. She is a narcissistic menace to society, it's only a matter of time until she does something to warrant arrest. The Apple doesn't fall far from the tree with that one."

Ted's frown deepened as he paused his game to face his daughter, "You are too hard on her. Sure she was a trouble maker as a child but she has changed and genuinely wants to make up for being challenging. You should give her another chance I think she'll surprise you."

"The only thing that will surprise me is if she somehow manages a job at the ministry. Can you believe she actually tried apologising to me for our childhood? The nerve honestly."

"You don't know what it's like for her Dora. We have to be understanding. She admires you and wants a relationship. I think you'd both get along marvellously now if you just gave her a chance."

"Ugggh not you too Dad! She uses her bloody childhood as a crutch and an excuse to be a shitty person. Guess what, she spent more than half her life with us! Does she blame us for her being a narcissist?"

Ted looked pained as he tried to find the right words to say to his daughter. He was thankful in some respects that she couldn't understand, that not even in her wildest imagination could she picture how damaging a life with the Lestrange's were. Ted had only known Bellatrix Black in passing, long before she had met You-Know-Who and had become the crazed fanatic. He had been terrified of her then, and he could only imagine what she became under the influence of Him. Dora didn't remember, she couldn't remember what Cassiopeia had been like when she first came to live with them. The seemingly innocent things that made her flinch and have panic attacks, the throw away comments that hinted at a horrific understandings that no child should have.

He would never forget the first morning, she had been so sure they would send her back because of her nightmares. Or when Andromeda had cut her hand deeply while cooking, and Cassiopeia very calmly cleaned and examined the wound, saying with the utmost confidence that the wound had missed all the major muscle and tendons in her hand, and that it was the best case scenario as far as lasting damage and pain would go. When Andromeda had tried to ask questions to understand what the girl meant Cassiopeia had simply pointed out the most efficient and painful places in a human hand to that one could injure.

When Dora's appendix had been inflamed Cassiopeia had been the first person to understand what was wrong. She knew where all the organs in the body, along with the major arteries. She never flinched from blood, handled pain like it was nothing, and had an uncanny knowledge of how to use a variety of healing potions. She was also uncomfortably efficient with knives, handling them as if they were an extension of her arm.

He knew the rumours, had heard them when they adopted her, and the Weasleys all but confirmed it.

Bellatrix had been awful to her daughter, no one could deny that. But there had been a time when Bellatrix Lestrange had been cornered, a time when they could've taken her into custody, and she was saved by a vicious attack launched by a small, unassuming child with a knife. There was more to their relationship Ted knew than Cassiopeia would ever dare to admit. He heard her, after some nightmares when she would cry out not in fear, but cry in loss, pain, when she cried for her mother and not because of her.

But Dora didn't know. She couldn't remember the war, not in the same way Cassiopeia did.

Ted barely remembered what it was like when things were really bad, having gone into hiding long before it got to that point with his family. But if what they said was true, Cassiopeia probably couldn't forget it. They said she had gone with them, on several raids, that she spied for her father, often getting lost in strategic locations. Andromeda even suspected that she had met You-Know-Who personally.

Dora was lucky that she couldn't relate to her sisters pain. He was happy that she couldn't understand or empathise with her, but he wished she would at least try a little harder. Cassiopeia was family, and family was very important to Ted.

"Look, I know you are angry at her and I know you're going to hate what I'm about to say. But please just give her a chance Dora, none of us can understand what it was like for her growing up, and she is really trying. Ask some people at work that were around back then, ask Mr Moody, he arrested the Lestranges. Maybe they can give you some balanced insight into the Lestranges"

Dora rolled her eyes in irritation, setting her empty plate and half abandoned crusts aside "Daaaaad, nobody calls him Mr Moody! And besides he doesn't know that you adopted her."

His eyes brows flew up in surprise "this man who has taken you on personally as his apprentice, who you spend most your time with, and he knows nothing about your family? How?"

"Oh he knows plenty about you and mom. Just not my cousin. Because why would he? I don't talk to her." She stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Damn it Nymphadora, sister. She's your sister and you are being a rotten cow to her right now."

Nymphadora had succeeded in making Ted properly angry to the point he ignored all of her attempts to reconcile for the rest of the evening. He glowered, ate pizza, and played his video game wishing his children could just get on like a family should.

Xxx

"Miss Tonks! How good to see you, and welcome once more to St. Mungos! It seems ridiculous now but I must say I was a little surprised to hear you had already finished up in Wales. So the formal programme we had prepared isn't quite ready yet, so I guess you'll be shadowing me for a few weeks until we can get a few more supplies.

Right, you remember where your locker is? If you get dressed in your apprentice robes we can get started right away. Tell me, what do you remember about diagnosing spell damage on witches and wizards..."

Lionel Spavin was a busy man, and while he had a whole curriculum set up for her further training, he was still waiting for some textbooks that were on backorder. Until they arrived he had her shadowing one of the healers as he made his rounds around the ward diagnosing spell damage.

The healer was a recently qualified young wizard who had been with the hospital for three years, a Theo Ashmole, "So you're Cassiopeia" He said when Mr Spavin left them alone. Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously before nodding.

Theo frowned slightly "Lionel is always talking about you. I thought you'd be I dunno, taller. Anyways this way"

Theo was an efficient wizard while working, straight and succinct when talking to staff and unusually empathetic when talking to the patients. He was very abrupt with Cassiopeia, demanding she follow his every instruction or find another person to shadow. The first time she saw him with a real patient had been wholly disorienting as he became a different person. It was astonishing.

Shadowing him had been informative more in the way the hospital worked and the preferred methods to deal the patients. When and where to discuss difficult topics, how to talk to the families and visitors, and the correct way to fill out the paperwork for potion prescriptions and how to administer them.

When she wasn't shadowing Theo and taking notes on his diagnosing methodology, she was reading in the basement, or unravelling the lightly cursed curios Mr Spavin kept down there to amuse the staff.

Gringotts was equally unprepared to take her on so early, and instead decided to fill the time between her expected start date and her real start date by also assigning her a curse breaker to shadow, someone who had a few years experience working and didn't mind the company.

"Hey Cassiopeia, it's been yonks since I've seen you. Hear you set a record or something in finishing your theory" said a grinning redhead.

"Bill." She breathed, forcing a smile on her face. It had been years since she had seen him, or any of the Weasleys for that matter.

"So you're the one who is stuck with me?" She said sardonically.

"Not saddled with necessarily. I actually volunteered. The company will be nice and mum will be so chuffed to hear that we are working together." He was grinning, pushing a long piece of hair behind his ear.

"How are your parents?" She asked, more sincerely

"Less busy now that everyone is off to Hogwarts. I think they are a bit lonely, always popping around to mine now that the house is empty. You should come round for dinner some time. I can get Charlie to visit too."

She laughed awkwardly, running her hand through her hair. "Not sure Charlie wants to see me. We didn't part on the best of terms."

Bill shrugged her off, "eh what's a little fight between old friends. I'm sure he will be excited to see you too."

"Er..let's play it by ear yeah? So what's there to know about gringotts?"

And so they got down to business. The tour took three days just to get the basics out of the way, the bank was that large. She met more than a few goblins and some of the other wizards who worked at and around the bank. Curse breakers had their own office deep in the bowels, to access it was a journey in and of itself and each wizard had to register their wand to gain access.

The office was isolated in case of the accidental trigger of dangerous curses, and had a special precaution to seal it away within a containment field to stop the spread of any airborne curses— plagues and the like. It's isolation and security also protected the valuable objects as each and every object that Gringotts had any interest in was valuable.

She was allowed to be a little more proactive at the bank since the curses were on objects and not people and together spent her days with Bill Weasley unraveling the complicated and dangerous spells.

The work at Gringotts was fast paced, hugely educational and very interesting. The hospital was abysmally slow in comparison and she was often lost for things to do. But it was rewarding whenever she assisted in the successful spell removal operation.

And she found the pressure in the hospital electrifying, when it existed. Her first brush with adrenaline came a few weeks into her apprenticeship when a young boy had been cursed into a deep slumber when he pricked his finger in a needle he found in a household junk cupboard.

The needle was inert when it had been brought in, the curse evidently only able to effect someone once. Unfortunately the longer the boy slept, the more his internal organs struggled to work. Despite appearing at peace his body was tearing itself apart.

It was the first day when Cassiopeia realised the hospital had a whole set of rooms put aside for staff to nap in during particularly stressful situations.

She and Mr Spavin worked for a solid two days analysing the needle and the boy, trying desperately to figure out the curse.

They were only able to get fragments of it as they worked, lifted off the boy as the magic moved through his body, feeding off his energy in a seemingly random way.

But few things were truly random and Cassiopeia was struck in the similarities between this curse and one she had read in a French dark magic book Professor Quirrell has lent her in her last year at Hogwarts.

She couldn't quite remember the details but she did remember thinking it was strange how the magic interacted with living cells. In inanimate objects the spell was stable, grounded. Introduce electrical impulses and the magic acted almost like lightning, jumping around the body on the back of stimulated nerves. The more the boy moved or was examined, the more his nerves fired to register the touch, the more the spell jumped throughout his body.

Once she figured out the pattern, getting impressions of the spell was straightforward. Once a diagram was put together it took only hours for her and Spavin to break it completely.

The boy had a rough few days, had lost some weight and would probably be sore for a while, but he would recover and she could finally get some sleep.

She threw herself completely into her internships, arriving well before her scheduled time and often staying late. She was professional with all of her colleagues, reserved, and had so far avoided any out of work social situations. And that included dodging Bill Weasleys constant attempts to get a pin down on her schedule so he could plan a family dinner.

It wasn't that she didn't want friends, she desperately did, but her sister's words bothered her more than she would care to admit. If she really was such poison, then perhaps it was best for her to quarantine herself. Not that people were clamoring to invite her places, in fact it was only Bill who had offered, on several occasions, to grab a beer after work. She always declined.

And so she went home every night, apparating into a minimum of three different locations before finally going home, where she would throw down her bag, grab her beaten and heavily patched leather jacket, and would head out into the wild nightlife of her city.

xxx

 _What do you guys think of Dora's reasoning? Does she have a point?_

 _hope you enjoy, and as always please leave a review, positive or negative!_

 _cheers,_

 _Tibys_


	3. Chapter 3: The Mask

Tracking persons of interest.

Dora frowned at her course material, reading through the best practice and tips and tricks of how to remain unseen and unknown while tailing a suspect. Remaining unseen was easy. She was top of her class when it came to concealment, it was a simple matter of becoming different people throughout the day or whenever the person became suspicious. Blending in was a skill she learned very early on in her childhood, back when it was important they remain hidden.

But...finding someone, that was another challenge, one that was perhaps a little beyond the courses offered content but no less intriguing.

It started the previous night, when Dora found out that Cassiopeia still hadn't told her parents where she lived. It was outrageous, especially since she was on some kick about being truthful and transparent or whatever rubbish. It was suspicious and contrary to her professed new attitude, so Dora did a little digging.

Cassiopeia was required to provide an address or place to contact her for her two internships, in case of an emergency or office closure or something. With a little persuasion and a healthy amount of evasion, Dora managed to find the original paperwork her workplace had filed with the Ministry.

She listed an address in London. It was an O.P. Box. She monitored the Owl Post Office for a few days, noting Cassiopeia did indeed most mornings very early.

Following her cousin was surprisingly difficult. She exhibited all the red flag hallmarks of someone up to no good. She apparated places by taking multiple rapid, small jumps to get from A to B, and seemed constantly aware of the people around her.

It was a relatively straightforward process if one was close enough, to follow where a witch or wizard apparated to. But if a witch or wizard rapidly went through several locations, it was virtually impossible to follow a suspect to their final destination.

It took weeks of following her, dozens of near misses, and all of her transfiguring skills to get a pin down on Cassiopeia. Nothing in the world was truly random and the more she watched her cousin, the very beginnings of a pattern emerged.

Cassiopeia took precautions against being followed physically, but some parts of her life were routine. She appeared to get a take away coffee every morning, some time before visiting her Owl Post box, which she did at least four times a week. Her seemingly random jumps were not so random the more Dora tried to follow, she always used one of about a dozen locations, and cycled through them.

Once Dora knew the locations she was able to put a few long term monitoring spells in place, tracking when Cassiopeia appeared in those locations. As the patterns became clearer Dora was finally getting closer to her final location.

Figuring out why her cousin was hiding became something of an obsession, and it was beginning to impact on her normal auror training duties. It finally got to the point where Alastor Moody had to take her aside and dress her down for her distraction, demanding to know what had her mind so occupied.

And so she was finally forced to tell her mentor about her cousin. She explained, providing as little detail as possible, Cassiopeia, her unfortunate relation, and her suspicious behaviour. Moody was quiet as he listened, frowning and nodding appropriately and when she finally finished, he simply stated that there was only one clear way to move forward.

She would have to do her tracking and tailing practical using her cousin, and it would be moved up to be her next assignment, since she clearly couldn't wait until it was formally assigned. She was relieved of some of her other duties and was allowed to focus on her mysterious cousin nearly full time.

The longer she observed the more details became clear. One day Cassiopeia's clothes and hair was wet, and yet the weather in London had been clear, blue sunshine. That meant her origin had inclement weather. She looked at the weather maps for the country and narrowed it down to three regions. The Scottish Highlands, West Wales, and the West Country.

Her morning coffee was in a brown recycled cardboard cup with a strange logo on it and no words. She couldn't get close enough to get a clear read on the logo, but she suspected that where ever it was, she lived nearby to it. It was her next clear lead-find the cafe, and maybe find her flat.

After a week of trying and failing to get a clear read on the logo, Dora finally acknowledged that there was only one way to get a close up view of it. It was a very high risk strategy and required external help. She would have to get Cassiopeia to discard the cup in public. If it had been any other person, Dora would have been able to do it herself. She was naturally talented at transfiguring her features into a complete stranger, but with Cassioepia she wasn't so sure she could directly interact with her without being recognised. Cassiopeia had always known it was her no matter how drastically she changed her features.

So she recruited a muggle kid, paid him a few quid to knock into her and spill her coffee. Her cousin had been irritated, muttered angrily under her breath, downed what little coffee was still in the cup, and threw it away just as she hoped. With her prize secured, Dora laid off her cousin for a little while as she researched the cafe that made the cup.

It was a dead end. There were no words to accompany the logo, no way to figure out exactly where the coffee came from.

She had almost given up on figuring out where her cousin lived, when she had an unexpected breakthrough while walking through the Ministry on her way to work. She passed another witch who was on her way out and was holding the same brown take away cup with the same logo on it. Dora stopped, moving out of the flow of foot traffic and tucked herself away, observing the witch. She was a small woman dressed very professionally with a small leather satchel slung over one shoulder, walking briskly out of the building.

She followed her, getting just close enough to glean her apparition destination as she left the building.

Dora looked around, finding herself on a quiet side street just off a main track in a city somewhere. The weather was colder than it was in London, and there were seagulls circling overhead. The witch she had followed was halfway across the street, never pausing in her brisk walk as she marched to her destination, a large muggle office building by the looks of it.

She changed her appearance and quickly transfigured her robes into muggle clothes before venturing out onto the main street, looking around curiously, before wandering, noting the location of the building the witch disappeared into.

After walking for a few streets Dora finally realised where she was. Bristol.

She watched the witch who led her here for the rest of the day, noting she was going in and out of a law firm, Lima and Associates. The law firm was suspicious, appearing to employ both witches and wizards as well as muggles, dangerously toeing the line of the statute of secrecy. But most importantly, the law firm seemed to consume an alarming amount of coffee that they seemed entirely unwilling to make themselves. At least every thirty minutes she observed a secretary going in and out of the building on a coffee run at a nearby cafe, a cafe with a very familiar looking logo.

She had found it.

Dora changed her features once more, looking around carefully to ensure that her cousin was nowhere to be found and entered the cafe.

It was a strange place, filled with mismatched furniture and home made tables and was attached to a community center. The walls were plastered with flyers advertising various classes, activities, and fundraisers. There were posters for a community garden, information about homeless shelters, and local music.

She smiled hesitantly at the woman behind the counter who greeted her, asking if she wanted anything. The menu was filled with vegetarian and vegan options, the barista covered in tattoos and piercings with a shock of blue hair.

"Welcome to Cafe Diem, can I get you anything?"

Being put on the spot made Dora realise something awful. She had no muggle money on her, "err.. Sorry, I don't actually have any money. Just some water I guess?"

The woman behind the bar smiled brightly at her, "No money, no problem. What can I get you?"

Utterly confused now, wondering if the muggle world was so radically different from what she remembered she hesitantly ordered the cheapest item on the menu, a cup of tea.

The woman smiled, and pulled a piece of paper attached to a cork board next to the register that said £5, crossed it out, and wrote £4 underneath it, and pinned it back.

"People add credit to the cafe for those down on their luck. Nobody goes hungry or uncaffeinated while in our doors are open." She said as she passed a small tea set for one over the bar.

"Have a seat, relax, and enjoy your drink."

Dora took her tea and sat in a corner on some wooden pallets with some cushions piled atop them and placed her tea pot on a short, brightly coloured, alter like table and watched the cafe in surprise and confusion.

The customers were a strange mix of muggles dressed in dark leather, heavily patched, and with spiked hair. There were also muggles with longer hair, flowing, brightly coloured patched clothes, and then there were muggles who looked shabby and down on their luck, eating full meals gratefully while using the notes posted to the cork board with value on them.

She watched the obviously homeless mix with university students, as people came and went from classes ranging from art to dance. She watched in growing awe, the cafe seemed central to the larger city community, as its patrons laughed and greeted each other, people of different backgrounds mingled happily.

She stayed for most of the day, long after her tea cooled, watching the spectacle, and marvelling at the muggles. She kept to herself, tucked away in the corner, and cast a very discreet 'notice me not' charm around her to keep those curious away from her.

She was thankful she had the foresight to do this because it seemed Cassiopeia not only visited this cafe every morning, but after work as well. She hunched her shoulders and looked away, appearing very busy with her tea when she saw her cousin come into the cafe.

She was well known here, as people called out greetings to her when she walked in, some slapping her palm or bumping fists.

She ordered a black coffee, putting a purple note down on the counter and walking away without any change, and walked over to a group of people all dressed in patched clothes.

"Alright?" she called, smirking at the group, "Alright Mildred?" a few called back, returning her acknowledgement and few even going so far as to give her a quick side hug or shoulder bump.

"Mildred we wos just talkin' about you mate. Dave's got a few new records he reckons you'd be interested in down at the shop. Chaos 7 inch or somefing like tha'"

"Cheers mate, i'll head down there later. You seen Mouse about? I wanted to have a chat about the zine."

"She's gone for the week mate down in Exeter with that bloke of hers, I think she left Degs in charge of the print."

Cassiopeia was going by a different name here in her town, Mildred. It was a strange choice and Dora wondered about it. Now that Dora had a place that she knew her cousin came to regularly it became easier to follow her. And she did nearly every day, carefully changing her appearance and mannerisms every time to try an allay suspicion.

It was a matter of days before she discovered her flat and her last name on the mailbox. Smith. Mildred Smith was her assumed muggle name. The entrance of her building was located in a narrow alleyway between a nightclub and a bar, in a fairly rowdy part of town. There was graffiti everywhere and people drinking and partying at all hours of the day. In her first day of surveilling the flat she had seen more drunken brawls and illicit drug use in the streets below her cousins flat than she had ever seen in her life.

There was something off about the girl as she went about her day to day business. She wasn't sure what it was but it furthered her suspicions that she was hiding something.

She started at the cafe in the local community centre every morning, eating a large cooked breakfast and drinking multiple cups of coffee slowly. She read a book and chatted with the other patrons, laughing and joking with the others.

Dora followed her cousin as she moved throughout the city on her bicycle growing more and more perplexed.

Cassiopeia was, well, extremely boring.

She went to a few record shops, clapped hands with a few groups of muggle youths around town, browsed a few charity shops, drank coffee at several cafes and then went into a dingy pub in the early evening. It wasn't long before she heard music emanating from the half opened doors and more and more youths filled the venue.

Dora watched from the shadows, completely mystified and with a niggling feeling that she was missing something obvious. And yet the more she observed the more troubled she felt. She watched her cousin for the whole night, waiting outside the pub until the early hours of the morning, watching in surprise as the girl stumbled out with her arms intertwined with a tall muggle man with spiked hair.

They stumbled the few blocks to her apartment, her bicycle in one hand and the pair supporting each other as they giggled and whispered in each other's ears, stopping only to lock lips with each other in a drunken passion.

She watched them disappear up to her flat feeling all the more confounded. Is that man the reason why she was so secretive? Did she have a muggle boyfriend? And what was that nagging, inexplicable feeling that she was missing something?

Dora went home and collapsed in her bed when the lights to Cassiopeia's flat flicked off.

She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing, going over every detail of the day, trying to find the hidden meaning, a detail that she overlooked. Frustrated at her inability to do so Dora fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of Stokes Croft and Gloucester Road in Bristol.

It took another few weeks for Dora to realise what she had overlooked.

What had started as a routine magical exposure clean up in the muggle world had led to two Aurors being hospitalised in St Mungos with symptoms caused by an unknown curse. The aurors had been responding to a report of a few muggle children exhibiting symptoms of being cursed, and it appeared they too had fallen prey to the same curse.

The children were brought to St Mungos, their parents heavily confounded as the team of curse breakers in the hospital tried to understand the nature of the curse and the potential threat it posed to wizards and muggles alike.

Lionel Spavin and Cassiopeia were working together as a team to figure out the symptoms, but until they knew the origin of the curse, they were limited in their treatment options. The curse was strange, causing mania and hysteria in its victims, and causing them to mutter phrases and incantations in tongues. The victims seemed hypnotised, all focussed on completing some task, though what that task was remained a complete mystery. What they did know is they became violent whenever someone got in the way of their performance of that task, lashing out at anyone who tried to restrain them.

They had to all be placed in under magical sedation until they could figure out more about the curse.

Cassiopeia was the first to recognise the gibberish they were muttering as middle english, and was able to translate a few words as they carefully brought one of the muggle boys out of sedation. It was a spell of some sort, a ritual, they were compelled to complete. What the ritual was about was anyone's guess.

The Auror office was mobilising to search the town where they knew the curse originated from, bringing in all of their cadets into the operation as well. Dora was paired with Moody, who decided to search the local gorge for clues, wondering if the two muggle children had gone into the network of famed caves to play after school.

Cassiopeia was busy at the hospital, researching middle english spells and incantations, trying to find a match for the ritual the cursed patients were trying to complete when another intern had come down to the basement library to let her know breathlessly that Mr Spavin required her help in the main ward.

Packing her notes quickly to show her boss, she followed the intern to the room housing the two muggle boys and the two Aurors who remained sedated.

She paused in surprise as she took in the rooms occupants. She had been expecting Mr Spavin and perhaps Theo, the other healer she worked with frequently. She was not expecting Amelia Bones.

"Ah Cassiopeia, just the person I was looking for." Mr Spavin gave her only a brief smile, the strain of working for several days straight taking its toll on the poor man.

"The aurors think they've found the source of the curse, but wanted to approach it with a curse breaker on hand to avoid any more casualties."

She nodded, "it's a good idea. Whatever it is was enough to incapacitate these two. It must be quite the curse." she tilted her head slightly to the two aurors on the hospital bed. "I've learned a few things, not as much as i'd like of course while researching. I would be happy to brief the ministry curse breaker going in on what i've learned." she said crisply, trying her best to ignore the presence of the head of of Magical Law Enforcement, speaking directly to Mr Spavin.

"Er- well that's the thing Cassiopeia-" Lionel looked suddenly uncertain, hesitantly rubbing the back of his neck,

"We aren't using a ministry curse breaker for this. We are sending you." Amelia Bones said sharply, recognising the man's hesitation and having no patience for it.

Cassiopeia stilled looking between the two searching for any sign of this being a joke.

"With all due respect marm, surely the ministry has far more experienced and capable curse breakers than me. I am still doing my apprenticeship."

"We have plenty of fine curse breakers, but you and Lionel are the two most familiar with this particular curse. And Lionel is needed here to care for the victims, and he claims your curse interrogation skills are sufficiently advanced to safely do the job."

"And your middle english language skills are superior to mine," Lionel continued softly, giving her an encouraging smile, "You're our best chance to get this right the first time."

"And you have no choice. I have the authority to enlist any and all resources needed to deal with a Level 1 Exposure risk. So far two muggles have already fallen prey, this represents a very present and serious threat to the Statute of Secrecy. You are going as soon as you are ready, which I trust will be in the next ten minutes. We have two teams already on site awaiting your arrival. "

And so Cassiopeia found herself clutching her notes and wand outside a cave entrance with two Aurors and their respective cadets staring at her with a mixture of horror, shock, and curiosity.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" her sister asked, the first to recover of the four.

"Hi Dora, how're you? I'm fine, Haven't slept in two days, dealing with your fallen colleagues, but yeah, pleasure to see you." She growled, brushing non existent dirt off her hospital robes in irritation. Ms Bones could've warned her.

"You must be the curse breaker Amelia sent. I'm Kingsley Shacklebolt, and this is Auror Cadet Hugo Jones, Auror Moody, and Auror Cadet Nymphadora Tonks, whom I see you know already." She shook hands with the towering Auror, returning his smile, albeit hesitantly. He seemed nice enough.

"No way! No Bloody way am I going anywhere near that cave with a bloody Lestrange. She'll probably get us all cursed, or worse, killed." the Auror Cadet behind Kingsley exclaimed upon seeing her. Cassiopeia's face heated slightly as she turned her sharp gaze on the young Auror Cadet.

He had been one of Charlie's quidditch friends, a stupid Gryffindor. Kingsley's eyes widened slightly as he continued to shake her hand, looking curiously at the fuming wizard behind him.

"Then go home Jones. If Ms Bones sent Cassiopeia then she must be the best person for the job. She's a cracking curse breaker and has more skill in her little finger than you do in your entire body." Dora was shocked by the hot pulse of protectiveness and anger that flashed through her at Jones' harsh words.

Cassiopeia turned in surprise to look at her sister, her eyebrows raising as she saw her sisters hair pulse an angry red and her wand held ready at her side. Dora's defence of her was unexpected but welcome.

She coughed in embarrassment, realising she was still shaking the wizards hand.

"Right-er, yes. I am Cassiopeia _Tonks_ , Amelia Bones sent me from the hospital to go in ahead of you guys and find the cursed item. So uh, this is the cave then?" she tried to steer the conversation to the matter at hand, wanting more than anything to just get it over with.

"Don't trust her Kingsley, she's a bloody Lestrange." Hugo Jones interjected once more.

"Jones, you are dismissed. We can handle it from here. Alastor Moody, though I reckon you knew that already." Moody stepped forward, eyeing her critically, his magical eye spinning madly throughout his head, while his normal eye was fixed on her face. She noticed he did not offer his hand.

"Myself and Cadet Tonks found this location, following a trail the kids left as they went exploring in this gorge after school last week. We explored half of the cave before I noticed something off and retreated and called for backup.

There is evidence that the other Aurors had been here as well, so we regrouped and called in the expert, which is you." Moody said brusquely, turning to glare at Jones who was looking particularly outraged and shocked at his dismissal.

"Are you deaf boy?!" Moody growled dangerously, taking a stilted step in the boys direction.

He huffed, his face now bright red, "your life." he muttered before disapparting. Kingsley looked around with raised eyebrows, taking in the situation quickly and following Moody's lead.

"We will follow your orders Miss Tonks." he said slowly, looking curiously between her and Nymphadora who stood awkwardly off to the side.

Cassiopeia nodded, looking warily at the cave tunnel, her stomach turning slightly with anxiety, wondering how her day had taken such a turn.

"Er...yes. I will go ahead and examine the cave, I will inform you when I clear an area as safe, and will hopefully locate the object and assess the situation. Hopefully I can break the curse here, if not I will have to quarantine the object and transport it to the hospital for the team to look at. So er- hold tight I guess."

She dropped her bag with her notes in it, preferring to go in unencumbered, and approached the entrance of the cave slowly, casting spells looking for the presence of magic as she went.

Nymphadora watched her cousin as she worked, finally understanding what had been so different about her when she was following her around Bristol. It was like she was a completely different person. She moved deliberately around the site, every action exact and measured. She was tense and wary, moving as if she was about to be attacked.

In Bristol, around the muggles, she was relaxed, calm and happy. Quick to smile and laugh, greeting people and strangers in good cheer. She moved with less caution, happy that she anonymous and unremarkable. That Cassiopeia was a stranger that Dora rarely glimpsed, and she felt a strange pang in the depth of her chest as she realised this.

Cassiopeia entered the cave warily. It was dark and smelled of mildew and damp. She moved slowly, carefully sweeping the area for any signs of magic, and so far coming up empty. She threw a glowing orb ahead of her, illuminating the path of the cave, sighing as she saw the path get narrower and narrower and more confined. Just in the entrance she saw detritus littered around the ground, suggesting more than a few muggles used this cave for parties. She wrinkled her nose as she moved past discarded beer bottles, broken needles, and empty crisp packets, moving towards the area of the cave that narrowed into a thin passageway.

She went a further twenty meters down the passageway before she was forced to squat on her haunches, noticing the way the dirt had been disturbed recently. The children had been here. She waddled another ten meters, her legs burning when she reached an area that had caved in, the boulders blocking most of the passage, leaving only a small opening so narrow she would have to scrabble on her stomach to get under. Next to it were two small hard hats and a torch apparently abandoned, the children had probably been exploring.

It was here she came across the first signs of magic. Namely a reinforcement spell and a small hole that had been cut through one of the boulders leading into darkness. That must've been from the two hospitalised Aurors from when they came through this cave, apparently unwilling to squeeze under rocks uncomfortably.

She paused, wiping the sweat off her brow, and peered through the hole left by the Aurors. There was a slight draft coming from the hole, suggesting a larger chamber, and she could see a small shaft of light coming from somewhere, indicating that at least some part of this underground chamber reached the surface. She cast a spell to reveal any magic and was shocked when it lit up the whole chamber, briefly exposing heavy warding and magical residue deep into the stones of the room beyond. She sat down with a thump, reading the feedback from her spell carefully. The warding was heavy but old, aimed more at alerting whoever cast the spells of intruders.

" _Lumos_ " she muttered once she deemed it safe enough and threw another orb of light through the hole into the darkness beyond.

She exhaled in shock as a large chamber was lit up in front of her. The walls were covered in a dark brown substance, painted entirely with runes and half completed spells, there were the remains of a fire long ago burnt out, a pile of what looked suspiciously like bones, and an ominous looking wooden mask with mostly blank features, painted heavily with symbols, it's dark orbs staring at her blankly, making her feel uneasy.

She gulped, staring at the area as long as she felt comfortable before retreating to inform the Aurors of her discovery and to plan her next steps.

"This is the place alright." she said heavily, relishing the fresh cool air outside the cave as she met the Aurors. It was uncomfortably, almost unnaturally hot in the cave, and the atmosphere was almost suffocating. It made her skin crawl.

She explained what she saw, and opened her bag to go through her notes and scribbling some more.

"Some curses can be broken without destroying the object but whatever this is...well it feels evil. The best way to break a curse is to destroy the object, obviously i'll only do that as a final resort. There is this creepy mask that I think is the source of the magic, but i'd have to go in an be sure as there is a lot going on." she gulped, dread already filling her as she thought about going entirely into that chamber alone.

"Muggles use this cave and know its here. I want you to cast your strongest anti muggle charms on the entrance and this area, and I want at least one of you outside the large inner chamber, ready to incapacitate me if I fall victim to whatever this curse is. I want that person to be your best duellist, because well...given how the others have responded, I will try and fight you. Do you understand?" the Aurors nodded and got to work securing the area.

She wrote her thoughts and suspicions in case she failed in her task in her notebook, giving the next person all the information she could. She also reluctantly unsheathed the three knives she kept on her person and stored them in her bag, trying to ignore the knowing glint from Alastor Moody as she did so. He had seen her weapons she knew, but had thankfully remained silent.

She also took a few moments to close her eyes and center herself, dealing with her anxiety and trepidation at her first real assignment and carefully locking them away in the back of her mind. She needed to focus, and she didn't need unnecessary emotions distracting her.

Finally feeling ready she entered the cave, with Kingsley Shacklebolt remaining posted just inside the cave and Alastor Moody and her sister following her deeper. In the end it was Dora who was positioned next to her, just outside the entrance into the larger antechamber, a decision Cassiopeia did not agree with necessarily, but understood that since she was the most physically fit and compact of the three Aurors. It was the most logical choice.

Dora was serious and she peered in taking in the scene in quiet shock. "Is that-Cass, do you reckon that's blood on the walls?" her voice was low as she took in the scene.

Cassiopeia shrugged, looking at the paintings on the walls carefully. "It might be, I dunno. It's that mask I am more interested in. Don't look at it too long yeah? In fact, try not to look in there while i'm working, just in case. Some curses can be hypnotising, luring you in. If you hear me speaking a weird language, then uh-pull me out and sedate me immediately. Understood?"

Dora nodded grimly, "Be careful Cass, seriously."

"Always."

Taking one last deep breath she stepped into the chamber, her wand clutched tightly in her hand.

Her suspicion about the mask was immediately confirmed as she felt its presence assaulting her very person from the second she stepped over the threshold. It was only because she was looking for it, was expecting it that she didn't succumb to it immediately.

She focussed on casting her spells, the incantations and wand movements to reveal a spell diagram so ingrained into her very being that it was more reflex than anything. Once she had the diagram visualised she threw it up in the air, examining it while turning her back on the object, not wanting it anywhere near her eye line as she worked.

She poked and prodded the diagram, trying to unravel its secrets, fighting to ignore the cursed object behind her. She felt the hollow, dark eyes of the mask staring at her, burning into the back of her head, enticing her with whispered secrets and answers. It was an oppressive presence, suffocating her, her hands shook as she worked, sweat rolling off her, soaking through her robes. It was hot, dangerously so, and she worried about passing out in such an environment leaving her vulnerable to whatever that thing was.

The longer she spent in the room, the louder and more insistent the curse became, she could hear echoes of past rituals, uncomfortably aware bones that littered the ground around the chamber, noticing now that she was fully in the chamber that there was more than one pile. The chanting was almost hypnotising and she swayed unsteadily on her feet, feeling faint from the heat and the atmosphere. But she continued working, keenly aware that if she failed, it wasn't just her life in danger, but her sister's just outside. And she'd rather die than let anything happen to Dora on her watch.

And so she fought the presence, teasing through the spell and unravelling it as she went.

The mask was part of a ritual, a death cult by the looks of things. It was cursed to lure victims in to perform the ritual sacrifices. That's why the aurors and the kids had been reciting middle english verses, it was part of the spell. Luckily the spell needed seven people to take part for it to work, but she could feel it trying to convince her give in, to recruit those outside to its cause, and to kickstart the ritual. The longer she looked at it, the more concerned she grew. This didn't look like an ordinary curse, it was familiar but she wasn't sure where she had seen a spell like this before. The knowledge irked her, remaining just outside of her reach.

She shook her head irritably, fighting the presence that was trying to invade her mind, tightening the hold on her mental shields and doubling down on her work. It was like the curse was more than just magic, it was almost like a presence, a thinking, human presence that not only recognised her, but understood what she was trying to do. And it was altering its way of attacking her as time passed.

Instead of a direct assault on her senses as it had been originally trying, it solidified into something more singularly real, whispering to her lowly, calling on her deepest fears, using them against her.

She realised almost too late what it was she was fighting as she saw one of the piles of bones twitch in her periphery. This wasn't a normal curse, this was much worse and something far more dangerous.

"Cassiopeia!" she heard Dora cry as the bones gathered and knitted together and rose from the ground. She barely got her shield spell up in time before the dark mass flew at her angrily.

She also managed to seal the entrance of the chamber, preventing a now desperate Nymphadora from coming into the chamber and interfering.

Her mind raced as she tried to maintain her personal wards while trying to find a way to defeat the creature attacking her. The mask's once featureless face now scored deeply to display a screaming visage.

She had read precious little about this type of dark magic, but she recognised it, which was the most important step in fighting it. This curse was some of the darkest magic she had ever read about, the foulest, most cruel way to desecrate the dead.

This was a Lich. A semi-intelligent inferi creature created by a wizard to act as an eternal servant.

A Lich that was trying to recharge itself by luring victims in to perform a draining ritual, ultimately sacrificing themselves so the Lich could live. A Lich that was using what was probably the last of its powers to attack her.

She buckled under the assault, giving up on her research and sinking to her knees, focussing all of her mental energy into maintaining her wards as the creature swelled in size and renewed its efforts to overwhelm her. It understood she was tiring and was trying to captialise on that fact.

Lich's were tied to a singular object, normally a phylactery, but in this case it must be the mask, the mask that was now pressed alarmingly close to her face, trying to catch her eye in its hypnotic gaze as it slowly eroded her spell.

There was only a few ways to destroy a Lich, and unfortunately the only one she knew was both highly illegal, and had a distinct possibility of killing her in process.

But if she didn't do it, then she would surely die.

Growling in frustration and fear she felt more exhausted than she had ever been in her life. She had only one shot, and if she screwed this up, it would probably kill not only her, but injure those Aurors outside.

She had a fraction of a second to cast the spell, in the period between dropping her wards and the Lich overwhelming her. She never focussed on something so intently in her life, moving to a place beyond fear, beyond the pain she was now suddenly feeling, her mind devoid of any conscious thought beyond the flame now spewing out of her wand.

She could only hold the spell for a short second, shouting the counter spell just as quickly, cutting off the fire, the heat of it searing her throat in the process before collapsing completely to the ground, drained entirely, the world swimming as she lost consciousness.

The Fire leapt from her wand like a snake, its mouth open and fangs exposed, latching onto the mask causing it to catch on fire. The threatening dark mass pulsed in panic, moving away from the collapsed witch and turning its attention to the flames now spreading across the mask, quickly consuming it.

The dark mass shuddered a few times before collapsing in a clatter of old bones and dust. The air cleared, and the magic died in the chamber, a cold, fresh air settling in the area.

All that remained of the mask was ash.

xxxx

Cassiopeia groaned as she woke up, her throat dry and the skin on her hand feeling unusually tight.

"Cass." she heard her sister voice beside her, sounding unusually happy to acknowledge her.

"Water," she croaked, uncaring why her sister was in her presence, as she tried to remember where she was.

She felt a cool glass pressed against her lips and she greedily gulped, relishing the feeling of the cold water against her raw throat and a little alarmed at how heavy her body felt.

It came back slowly, the cursed children, the aurors, Amelia Bones enlisting her help, the cave, and the Lich. Her eyes flew open in a panic, taking in her surroundings in confusion.

"Lich, Dora it was a Lich, you've gotta-"

"Shhh Miss Tonks, we know." Amelia Bones was standing at the edge of her bed. She looked around, recognising the hospital room in the main ward, and frowned deeply. She tried to sit up and winced, her hand burning in pain and her body feeling like it weighed a ton.

"Calm yourself Miss Tonks, you've had a very close call and drained nearly all of your magical reserves. You are safe and you need to rest." It was Mr Spavin, who looked beside himself with worry as he read her vitals.

She took stock of her situation, raising her hand to examine the tight, pale new scar across her knuckles. It felt stiff and strange. She touched her face, feeling the same new skin across her forehead and down her cheek, her throat felt raw and dry, irritated.

"You burned yourself casting that stupid spell. Merlin Cass, I thought you had caught fire too, or that I was too late."

"It was good thinking on your part and a testament to your skill that you managed to cast such a spell, as it is one of the only ways to totally and permanently destroy a Lich Miss Tonks" Amelia Bones continued after Dora, examining the girl in the hospital bed closely.

Cassiopeia swallowed painfully, understanding that the Fiendfyre curse was exceptionally illegal and considered dark magic for a reason. Her knowledge of it was questionable at best. Her ability to cast it without killing herself was highly suspicious.

"I thought I was gonna die. I figured I might as well take that creature with me." She rasped, her throat aching.

"You almost did die, and it would have been all my fault." Lionel collapsed into a chair beside her bed, burying his face in his hands, pulling at his hair. "I should've known it wasn't a simple curse, merlin a Lich? That would be enough to take down even the most seasoned wizard. You're just an apprentice!" He looked miserable and on the verge of crying which was rather alarming.

"Lionel, if anyone would be responsible it would be me. I'm the one who sent her into the field. She is alive and well, perhaps a little singed around the edges. Pull yourself together." Amelia said gently but firmly to the distraught man. Lionel sniffed loudly, dragging his palms across his face, peering over the tips of his fingers as he looked at his injured apprentice.

"Rest up Miss Tonks. I expect a full report on your activity on my desk by the end of the week. Auror Cadet Tonks, I expect Mad-Eye has something for you to do. Your sister is fine, you have other duties." The woman was final in her commands, demanding professionalism and efficiency from all those around her. The reminder of other duties seemed to be enough to snap every one out of their fugue and into something approaching usefulness.

Cassiopeia was a terrible patient, discharging herself early from the ward while growling threats at Theo as he tried to keep her in bed. "Fine, sod off then. You obviously know more than the healers here." He exclaimed throwing his hands up in the air.

Cassiopeia spent the rest of the day limping around her basement office, avoiding everyone and quickly typing up her report for Ms Bones, wanting to get the whole ordeal over with sooner rather than later.

Mr Spavin locked himself away in his office, his guilt whenever he looked at her almost overwhelming him. He was really torn up about the whole situation, more than Cassiopeia was. She was touched by his reaction however, only now realising how much he cared about her well being as a team member.

She was also touched by Theo. He was still irritated at her self discharge and found excuses to check on her throughout the next few days. She and Theo weren't terrible close and rarely took part in social chatter, so she found it amusing when he tried to engage her in small talk, slipping in diagnostic questions in between weather observations.

She had been a little alarmed the first time she looked in the mirror, seeing she was missing half of an eyebrow and had a new shiny piece of skin stretching across her forehead and down her cheek. Her cursed fire caught her more than she realised.

A few days passed before a level of normalcy returned to her life as her scars became fainter and fainter with the regular application of nightly creams. Mr Spavin seemed to have found new energy with the new week and was positively thrumming with it.

It appeared nobody had informed the Tonks' about her brush with danger which suited her just fine. She was fine, there was no use in causing unnecessary worry. She did regrow her eyebrow before meeting with Ted for their standing arcade date just in case.

And so life moved on, Cassiopeia falling back into her normal routine, grateful that life was less exciting at both her internships.

 _A/n thanks for the reviews,_ _shout out to brnicholas and his ever insightful reviews._

 _Dora is just as flawed as her sister, equally distrustful and suspicious. It doesnt help that Cassiopeia moves through life super suspiciously, but she has her reasons which have yet to be revealed, but is also born out of paranoia and fear for the future. Dora is going to have to come to terms with cassiopeia, because she does car, her reaction to Hugo (who we met early in the second story..) and his accusations._

 _Thoughts about my Lich, the ongoing dora/cass relationship, and cafe diem are always welcome! as well as comments, critiques, observations. Reviews are always great if you have the time, even if its something quick to just say hello!_

 _tibys_


	4. Chapter 4: 1993

"Oi Cass wait up!" She paused outside the pub, turning to greet her sister.

"Hey Dora— ow, what the hell?!" She rubbed her arm that Dora had punched, cradling it defensively, now glaring at the girl.

"That's because you checked yourself out of the hospital early! After all that business with the Lich. I went to visit you and you were gone."

She smirked, "You weren't worried about me were you Dora?" She teased

"Of course I was. I was there too remember? I thought you were gonna die. I may not like you, but I don't want you to die."

Cassiopeia smiled a little more genuinely now as they continued into the pub, "well rest assured that I've only been in maybe two near death accidents since then." She joked.

"What?" Dora stopped her, alarmed "When? You gotta tell us these things? What happened? Are you ok? Was it a rogue curse? Why are you laughing? This isn't funny! Wait, you're just taking the piss aren't you?" Dora blushed as she realised the sarcasm in the other girls voice and she turn and punched her once again in the arm.

"Not bloody funny Cass. You know what?" She punched her shoulder once more, harder, "that's for sealing that chamber, and this—" another punch followed "—is for being so bloody smart with it,"

Cassiopeia was laughing lightly, rubbing her arm tenderly as she felt the bruise coming in.

"Bloody auror brutality over here- joking!" She held her hands up in defence as Dora raised her fist in warning, wincing slightly at the dull throb in her arm. Her sister was stronger than she remembered.

"If you are done assaulting me, thank you for your concern. I didn't know you came back to the hospital, but you could've just, I don't know, come down to my office sometime? You're an auror, I thought that meant you could do as you bloody please regardless of rules or whatever including coming down to my restricted area."

"I er well I didn't want to disturb you while you worked." She said, looking away sheepishly.

"You're alright to come down. Most the time I'm researching more than curse breaking. The job is like 80% research after all. But thank you for your concern. I should've dropped a line with you letting you know I was fine."

"That boy Theo told me."

And awkward silence descended on the girls after that, each avoiding eye contact as they searched for neutral conversation.

"Mom and Dad booked the balcony. It's uh through here." Dora finally said, leading the way.

They were both at the pub for a family birthday dinner for Cassiopeia organised by Ted. Instead of the normal arcade and pizza route, the Tonks decided they wanted to do something a little more formal. So they booked a nicer pub in London for a quiet dinner.

"Surprise!"

Cassiopeia stopped in shock as she took in the scene.

"Happy Birthday Cassiopeia! 19 years old!" Ted was in the middle of it all, surrounded by banner and balloons, grinning madly next to a smirking Andromeda and her work colleagues.

Bill Weasley and his parents were grinning next to Lionel Spavin and Theo Ashmole from St Mungos. There were a few of the other potioneers and healers she was moderately friendly with present the bar. There was even a Gringotts Goblin present, scowling at everyone around him.

She was speechless and her eyes were strangely burning.

"I—you guys," she walked into the room feeling slightly overwhelmed. Her birthday was never really a day that she celebrated. The last few at Hogwarts at been almost entirely forgotten by everyone save the Malfoys and the Tonks.

She didn't realise that her colleagues at work considered her a friend. Sure she was friendly with the ones who saw through her name, but she never hoped that they would actually socialise outside of the workplace. Theo was the most surprising of the group, she thought he barely tolerated her.

She made her rounds, thanking everyone for coming and engaged in polite small talk. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves and her guests had broken into little groups, everyone except one notable loner.

"Hey Ashmole," she greeted the man who was standing off awkwardly near the edge of the food table.

He turned to her and nodded shortly, "Cassiopeia. Happy birthday." He said very seriously. "The party is very well run."

She smiled at him, he was a strange character. He was always so blunt and direct with her, awkward and yet around patients he was warm, understanding, patient, nurturing. It was like a mask he wore where he pretended to be a normal human being.

Party situations did not appear to bring out that mask. He held a little plate of food and a drink that looked suspiciously like water and looked a little helpless.

"Thank you for coming Theo, I really appreciate it. And I never thanked you for your help a few weeks ago, treating me after the accident."

He fidgeted, giving her a quick sideways glance before taking a sip of his water. "It is my job to help people. You needed help." He cleared his throat, "Lionel helped organise this, your sister put him in touch with your par— er— family. He invited nearly the whole hospital." She raised her eyebrows, looking at her boss who was in deep conversation with Arthur Weasley and Ted.

"I uh had no plans. So I thought why not." He finished, staring at his plate and his drink, wondering how he was going to eat.

"Here, let me help" she grabbed his drink and took a quick smell of it as Theo gratefully started to pick at his food.

"You know it's an open bar right? You don't have to drink water." She teased.

He blushed, "I uh I didn't know what the order, I don't go to pubs often so I admit most of it is a mystery."

She smirked at how uncomfortable and awkward the boy was. Theo was incredibly clever, a cracking healer, and a professional to boot. And yet when it came to social situations, he was hopelessly naive.

"What's Theo short for anyways? Theodore?" She asked curiously

His blush deepened and he mumbled under his breath.

"Sorry?"

"Theophrastus." He said miserably.

Cassiopeia Couldn't help the laughter that erupted out of her and she quickly started apologising in between breaths.

"It's a family name." He said defensively, glaring at her.

"You should ask my sister about unfortunate names." She finally said regaining control.

"Well Theophrastus Ashmole, tonight I'm going to find a drink of the alcoholic variety for you. That way if you are ever at a bar in the future, you will know how to order. Shall we?"

And so she spent most of the evening getting to know her shy co worker and figuring out his tastes. In the end, they settled on a classic rum and ginger beer.

When the party ended she hugged Ted and Andromeda tightly, thanking them for the party and she even managed to give Dora a half hug before she squirmed away.

"No bloody way Cassiopeia." Dora said as she brushed off her cousin. "My present to you is being here and giving dad your bosses contact information."

"Whatever Dora, thanks for your part in all of this."

Xxx

After her birthday party Cassiopeia began noticing small differences in how people treated her at work. It was subtle but now that she was looking for it, she was beginning to see. Before everyone had treated her mostly with civility and professionalism. They never joked with her, never had personal conversations, and never made an effort to get to know her.

Her secret had well and truly been out for years now, and it was obvious her heritage had made it around the staff well before she had arrived for her apprenticeship. That much had been immediately clear from the sheer panic everyone felt when she happened upon the Janus Thickey Ward a few weeks into her stay with Theo as part of her introduction to the hospital.

She had of course been mortified by that experience, coming face to face with Frank and Alice Longbottom, seeing for herself all that remained after a run in with her family. Their mother had been there when she came through and she would never forget the hateful stare that small, frumpish woman gave her as she quietly took in Theo's lecture. She was thankful that the woman didn't start yelling abuse at her from the moment she entered, she just huffed and glared.

Theo for his part had been the only one unbothered, continuing his lecture as if she wasn't standing next to the two victims that sent her parents to prison. He had a job to do and everything outside of that was unimportant.

But now people were tentatively engaging her in small talk. Some would give her short smiles when they passed in the hall, a nod and an 'alright' in acknowledgement. Elevator rides would be peppered with talk about the weather, or whatever case of illness was going around. She was floored when they invited her out for post work drinks at a pub around the corner.

As she noticed these subtle changes at the hospital, she began noticing something else. Theo was not invited to these things, and people treated him much in the same way they had been treating her. He was a loner all on his own, often staying well after his shift to work with the patients, or to research some symptoms or conditions. He had said it himself, he rarely went out to pubs, and she realised it was because nobody had ever invited him.

She understood not being invited, and she also understood that he was dedicated to the job at the expense of his own loneliness. So she kindly turned down the offer from the other interns and healers, and approached Theo reading away in hospital library.

"Alright there Theophrastus," she called, smiling slightly at his name.

His face reddened as he looked up at her, scowling slightly. "Please stop making fun of my name." he asked calmly, his finger marking his page.

Her smile faltered as she took in his tone of voice. It was clear she had hit a nerve. "Sorry Theo, I actually kind of like your name, it's unique."

"It's terrible." he retorted. "Didn't you finish your shift already?" he asked pointedly.

"Didn't you?" she returned, raising her eyebrows.

"I had a peculiar set of symptoms in a patient and I think our diagnosis might be off. So I am spending time researching."

"How long ago did you find what you suspect is the answer."

His blush deepened, "two hours. But it is just a hunch. I need to confirm it."

"You were a Ravenclaw weren't you."

"What does that matter."

She laughed, "Come on, you've solved your problem and given that you are still here, I am willing to bet that the solution is a minor change in your treatment and not needed immediately, otherwise you would have rushed over to fix it. In fact, I bet you already altered your treatment earlier in the day when you suspected something and you are now just researching it to allay your fears that you might have been wrong."

"I need to be thorough in all my actions." He hunched over his book defensively, eyeing the girl uncertainly. People rarely disturbed him while he was researching, certainly not Cassiopeia.

"Look, I was thinking, it's been a long few weeks, with the whole, well you know-being attacked by a Lich- and i've been equally swamped at Gringotts, sorting through a new tomb that was found somewhere in Gaza, maybe it's time to take a break and get a drink."

He raised his eyebrows and frowned at her in confusion. When it became clear she was expecting some sort of response from him, he shrugged, "So get a drink." he said simply, wondering why she was telling him this.

She rolled her eyes, "I meant with you. If you want. To get a drink. With me. As colleagues of course, I know you've been so busy and I never properly thanked you for helping me when I was admitted." She was starting to feel nervous as the boy stared at her in surprised silence. "Look I can take a hint, if you don't want to that's fine too. I'll just er-" she ran her hands through her hair, regretting every decision that brought her to this moment.

"You want to get a drink? With me?" he asked slowly, still looking confused.

"Yes. That's literally what I just said."

"Now?"

"If you're free. I know you clocked out ages ago. Let that brain of yours rest, or tell me all about it in the pub."

"And this isn't a joke?"

Cassiopeia knew then just how little Theo had socialised within his workplace. He looked so suspicious at the very prospect of friendly drinks, he thought she was trying to trick him.

"I am as serious as Dragon Pox." she said solemnly.

"Dragon Pox is fairly easily treatable. It's a simple outpatient procedure." he said automatically, closing his book slowly.

"Oh fine, serious as a curse. Better?" she said with a smirk, pleased he was finally making progress.

Theo was tense and quiet in the pub, ordering his rum and ginger beer slowly, worried he had forgotten the drink he liked, and let Cassiopeia do most of the talking. Cassiopeia was unaccustomed to carrying conversations as she was normally the reserved party in a group and it wasn't long until the pair found themselves in awkward silence, each staring at their respective drinks lost in thought.

"Were you scared?" Theo finally asked, out of nowhere.

"Scared of what?" she asked, looking at the boy curiously.

"When you fought that Lich. They said you sealed the chamber so your er sister? Couldn't help."

She nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "I didn't realise what it was at first. I was beginning to understand the purpose of the curse but that final connection came far too late. I don't think I had time to be afraid, I had to concentrate on killing that thing. The moment I realised I think I accepted that I was as good as dead, best keep that death to just me." Cassiopeia frowned into her drink, remembering the panic and the certainty she felt that she was never going to see another day.

"You accepted your fate just like that?" Theo asked curiously, swirling his drink.

She nodded, "Death doesn't scare me. On the scale of ways to die, taking out a Lich and saving some people seemed like a good way to go." She said truthfully.

Theo was quiet as he thought over her words, "I think you're very brave, clever, and talented. To cast that spell in those conditions and control it is rare. How did you learn the counter spell?"

Cassiopeia stiffened and coughed uncomfortably as she took in his praise and question. He was getting into territory she would rather not want to talk about.

He apparently noticed her reticence and blushed, taking another sip. "I'm sorry, that's inappropriate isn't it? I just, I always put my foot in it. My curiosity runs away with me sometimes."

Cassiopeia could see the body curling in on himself miserably as he took another drink. "No, well I mean it is uncomfortable. The spell is illegal," she started

He jerked his head, "it's not illegal the way you utilised it though. I looked it up."

Of course he did.

"I think I've always known about that curse, but when I realised it's a definite way of destroying nearly every form of magical interference I figured I should learn how to control the curse, in case I ever need it for emergencies. I don't want to destroy, but I will use targeted destruction if it'll save someone." She said cautiously. It was the truth, but she understood it sounded false to many who suspected the worst about her.

"Very logical reasoning." He nodded, taking a sip thoughtfully.

"You finished your theoretical a semester early correct?"

She nodded, smirking in amusement as he spoke. He enunciated very well when he was curious about something. It was very proper. She liked it.

"And you've managed a dual internship. I know what you do for St Mungos, but what about Gringotts? What's the attraction of such an exhausting arrangement?" He asked curiously, peering at her carefully, uncertain whether he was being a nuisance or not.

"St Mungos is brilliant but, thankfully, there aren't a lot of serious curses that come through the door. At Gringotts I'm constantly working with exotic curses from around the world, it's challenging and I spend all my shifts there curse breaking."

He furrowed his eyebrows, "so you learn more at Gringotts?"

"I'm learning at both my apprenticeships. Just different things."

"How does it work at Gringotts?" He asked

She told him about the banks subterranean levels while being vague on the specifics of the safety precautions. She explained how she worked as part of a team with Bill Weasley on different assignments that were divided based on priority from sources within the bank and from abroad. She was currently stuck into a large project unravelling the protective charms and curses on a large tomb found in an undisclosed location in Gaza, clearing the way so the goblins can reach the vault.

"And sometimes we do contract work with bank customers. For example I've had to hire the bank to assist with the cataloging of some old family vaults that contain cursed objects. Some other bank curse breaker is working to identify and isolate some cursed objects." She said finishing off her drink and signalling for another.

Theo's eyes were wide as he processed what she said, his mind spinning. "Why do you work at the hospital? Gringotts sounds far more practical and exciting."

She smiled softly, it was a question she was asked frequently enough by other curse breakers. St Mungos wasn't exactly a top placement nor a competitive one. Mr Spavin was always having difficulty attracting a curse breaker specialist which was why he lobbied so hard for her.

"Sure I see a lot more action at Gringotts but at the end of the day it's all for material gain. Those curses are protecting gold or something equally valuable. Who cares? At St Mungos I get to help people, make a difference in their lives, help someone through what is probably the worst moments of their lives. I don't get called in a lot in the hospital, but when I do I work infinitely harder on those cases than I do on some curse protecting piles of gold. You must get that?"

He nodded eagerly, finishing his own drink, "Of course! I have dedicated my life to helping people at the hospital. I've worked hard my whole life to make sure I could do it to the best of my ability. But if you want to help people, why not just become a healer and specialise in curses?" His eyes lit up as he talked about his motivations and he noticeably perked up as he spoke.

Cassiopeia blushed, brushing the hair back from her face nervously, "I er—my magic is more er...destructive. I am good at taking something apart and breaking it. Healing magic is more challenging, it's—I've just never been able to do it very well." She ducked her head nervously, examining her drink glass closely.

"It is challenging but I've seen you do magic. I bet with the right tutelage you'd excel. And you're in the perfect position to learn. I could help." He grinned at her, already mentally formulating a plan.

"Thanks Theo, maybe when both of us have time in our schedule." She said evasively, vaguely accepting an invitation with no intention of ever letting him try.

"Brilliant. I'll check my schedule and we can see what we can arrange," He was grinning now and swaying slightly.

"Hey Theo, how much have you had to drink there buddy?" She asked, both amused and slightly concerned.

He grinned wider, "I haven't a clue."

"Right well, let's get you home mate and get some water in you."

After an impromptu kebab and a mild interrogation Cassiopeia finally ascertained where Theo lived and saw him safely home. She followed him in to ensure he had drunk an appropriate amount of water and was reasonably prepared for the hangover he was bound to have in the morning.

Happy he was all set and tucked into bed she was about to leave when he stopped her, calling her from beneath his covers. "Cassiopeia?"

"Yes Theo?" She asked in amusement, hovering near his bedroom door.

"We are friends right? You weren't just being nice were you?" He sounded so tired and vulnerable.

"Of course we are friends Theo. I'll see you at work Monday Ok?" She said gently.

He sighed and snuggled deeper under his covers. "I'm glad. I like you." And with that final declaration he rolled over and began lightly snoring.

She snorted, shaking her head and let herself out of his flat. He was a strange character and a teetotal to boot, but he was nice and genuine and now a friend.

It had been years since she had friends in the wizarding world and she smiled the whole way home, apparating between her normal spots before wandering to her flat.

Theophrastus Ashmole was her friend. She felt warm just thinking it.

Xxxx

It was late when Bill received the letter. He and Cassiopeia were working overtime to unravel a particularly tricky curse, feeling as if they had finally cracked a significant piece of the puzzle and were on too much of a roll to quit for the night.

Bill frowned at the spell diagrams, absentmindedly tearing open the letter than had been delivered by a particularly harassed looking owl.

"I think this rune here is the weak point, if we just focus there we can unravel..erm..we can…" he trailed off as he read the letter in his hand, paling significantly.

"Bill? What is it?" Cassiopeia asked, growing worried at the how still the boy had suddenly become.

"It's my sister." he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes wide, his hands shaking slightly. "I gotta go to Hogwarts." he grabbed his outer robes, throwing them on clumsily. Cassiopeia frowned, her stomach clenching with dread.

She knew what was happening at Hogwarts, it was all anyone could talk about at the hospital. Someone or something was attacking students all muggle borns so far. To attack a Weasley was an escalation and a break in the pattern. It was an alarming development.

"Charlie, someone's gotta tell Charlie." he muttered, running his hand through his hair nervously, patting down his pockets looking for something.

"Bill, relax. How do you contact Charlie normally." she said sharply, trying to stop the boy from spiralling in his own fear and concern.

"Floo. His floo is connected to mine and my parents. I need to go home and let him know, an owl wont reach him in time. Merlin, Ginny…" he looked like he was about to be sick as he thought about anything happening to his sister.

"Bill. Go to Hogwarts now, give me your keys, i'll floo Charlie and let him know and send him as soon as possible." she held out her hand, demanding his flat keys as he stared at her, completely lost.

"Right, uh, yes. Good thinking. Mom and Dad must be there already." he swallowed anxiously, giving her the keys and looking around, still a little lost and green.

"Bill, go to Hogsmeade, you can apparate near the gates. Or better yet, go upstairs and floo directly into Dumbledore's office. He must be expecting you. Go now." she said urgently, pushing him out the door. He nodded and took a few stumbling steps towards his destination before his anxiety kicked in and he began to almost run to the upper levels of the bank.

Cassiopeia cleaned up their work space as quickly as possible, shutting everything down in record time before running to the closest apparition point to get to Bill's flat, suddenly thankful he had dragged her there on several occasions for small Weasley family dinners.

She let herself in and stalked directly to his fireplace, grabbing a pinch of the sparkling powder and shoved her head in the fireplace, uncomfortably squatting in front of it, wishing wizards had adopted landlines like the rest of civilisation.

She reached a pleasant looking woman on the other side, a young girl in what looked to be a communal living room with a large dinner table.

"Oh hello!" she said cheerfully, smiling at the fireplace.

"I'm looking for Charlie Weasley." she said curtly, ignoring the way the girls smile faltered.

"He's in the shower im afraid, but I can take a message for him." she said apologetically, frowning when Cassiopeia jerked her head in irritation.

"No, get him out of the shower now. It's a family emergency." she said sharply,

"I'm not sure-"

"Now." she left no room for argument, levelling her best glare at the girl who frowned and turned and walked away.

Cassiopeia growled in irritation as she watched the girl leave, her leg was falling asleep and her back was screaming at the awkward angle she found herself in.

"Cassiopeia Tonks? What's this all about?" Charlie walked into the living room, and Cassiopeia did her best to not show her surprise at his general state of undress. He was wearing nothing but a loose pair of trousers, his hair sopping wet, with water stains coming through his trousers, a towel thrown over his shoulder. He had apparently dressed before drying completely. He looked good she thought, eyeing his muscles appreciatively, noticing the scars and burns that ran across his body. She swallowed thickly, shaking her head slightly to focus on the task in front of her, thankful the floo couldn't show the bright blush now crawling up her neck.

"Bill sent me, something happened to your sister and you're needed at Hogwarts. Bill has already gone with your parents, I said i'd get word for you as quickly as possible."

She skipped all the pleasantries, trying to convey to him the urgency of the situation. Charlie paled, the smile dropping off his face. "Ginny? What's happened to Ginny?" she could hear the panic working it's way into his voice.

Cassiopeia shook her head, "I don't know, look get a shirt on and floo to Dumbledore's office. I am sure he will be expecting you."

"I-yes, right. Thanks Cass," he pulled his wand out of his pocket and transfigured his towel into a shirt and dried himself off.

"Give everyone my best." she said before pulling out of the fireplace with a nod, freeing it up so he could use it.

With her message delivered there was little more she could do than wait and see. She apparated to St Mungos and made her way down to the library, smiling only a little when she saw Theo working away on something or another.

"Hello Cassiopeia." he said, giving her a curious nod, gesturing to a seat across from him. "You look rough."

She laughed a little, he was always blunt. "The Weasley's youngest girl is the latest victim at Hogwarts it appears. I've just informed one of the brothers." She sighed, feeling a little tired.

"So you came to hospital to hear if anything needs our attention." he said knowingly, giving her a soft smile.

"What if it's a curse?" she asked, staring at her hands on the table.

"Then we'll have one of the best curse breakers here and ready for duty." he said, giving her a short pat on the arm before retracting his hand quickly.

She sat in a companionable silence with Theo for a little while, very aware that the boy was watching her closely, looking for signs of distress and trying to find a way to helping. Theo hated it when people were in pain, it was his job to alleviate it. Emotional pain was a lot trickier than physical however, and not his area of expertise.

"You are close with the Weasleys. They were at your party." he stated simply.

"Yeah, i've known them since I was a little girl. They helped me when I needed it most, and i've never been able to repay them for it. They are good people, they've been through a lot, they don't deserve this." she said softly, trying to remember the last time she saw their youngest daughter. It had been years. Ginny was her name.

"Nobody deserves bad things happening to them. And you realise you don't have to physically repay everyone who has ever helped you right? Just your friendship is enough for most people." he said gently, trying to catch her eye.

She laughed a little, wishing she could look at the world the way Theo did. He was a good person, he helped people because he liked helping people, and the Weasleys were the same. She knew they didn't expect her to repay them for their help all those years ago, but she needed to find a way to show them just how much she valued them, before the world changed again.

Her stomach twisted, between Quirrell and Potter the previous year, and now all of this business with petrification at Hogwarts, the world was changing faster and growing more unstable very quickly. She worried about it, worried that the Boy Who Lived was changing things, or putting things in motion that were best left alone. She worried she was running out of time to enjoy life.

Theo kept her company while they waited, and eventually led her to one of the spare suites the interns used to rest during overnight shifts when it became apparent she was struggling to stay awake.

"Don't worry, I am on call all evening, i'll come fetch you if there is a development." he assured her, pushing her onto a bed.

True to his word he woke her up in the early hours of the morning letting her know the Weasley girl was safe, though the same could not be said about her Professor, a man who had apparently attempted to rescue her.

"Gilderoy Lockhart was just admitted for extreme memory loss, looks like he will be the latest resident of the Janus Thickey ward."

She fell back onto the bed releasing a deep sigh of relief. She would get the story from Bill she was sure when she next saw them, and figured it was best for the family to spend precious time together after such a scare.

For now she was feeling exhausted and in need of a good night's sleep.

"Thanks Theo, I owe you big time."

"You can't owe your friends Cassiopeia. You'd do the same for me." he sighed, reminding her once more that she was his friend and that friends helped each other.

"Yeah." she said simply, giving him an affectionate pat on the shoulder before heading home for a short nap before her next shift started.

Bill was gone for a week as his sister healed at Hogwarts, and when he finally returned he wrapped her in a big hug, thanking her once more for her help during their family crisis.

"Harry Potter saved her, Merlin, she was all the way in the Chamber of Secrets. Can you believe that it's even a real thing?" he said, looking pale and drawn after the whole ordeal.

"What does Harry Potter have to do with it?" she asked a little sharper than she intended, feeling slightly ill.

"I dunno. He was just there. Nice kid. Ron's friends with him." Bill said simply sitting heavily.

"Mum wants to have you over for dinner by the way, when they get back from school. You don't really have a choice with this one. She wants to thank you for getting Charlie."

"Of course, it's what anyone would do. Now what's on the docket today Weasley?" she asked, anxious to change to subject back to neutral territory.

"Well let's see...looks like more curses. Fancy that." he joked, leading them into a room filled with curios from an excavation in Micronesia.

"Brilliant, my favourite." she quipped, rolling up her sleeves and pulling out her wand.

Things were changing in the greater wizarding world, but she was just also getting comfortable in her own world.

A/N _Sorry for the delays in updates, I caught a horrid sinus infection that knocked me out for two weeks, and then had to travel a bit this last week. This chapter is more of a filler, introduces some interesting characters and gives insight into Cassiopeia's regular life. Some small scenes as time passes. I originally had this as a longer chapter but decided to break it into two, I couldnt get them to mesh and it just seemed like two different scenes. Ill have the next one up in a few days, just putting the finishing touches on it now._

 _Reviews are always great, and thanks always to nicholas who is a very dedicated reviewer, I always enjoy your insights. see you next time_

 _tibys_


	5. Chapter 5: Secrets Revealed

A storm raged outside, wind and rain battering the shard of dark stone that rose into a sky and drenching the Aurors who apparated to the entrance. The cold cut through the layers Dora had worn for the occasion and it wasn't long before she was shivering. The small group all but ran to the entrance of the building, their patronuses lighting the way and holding back the dark swirls that surrounded the building. A single human manned the prison, he was holding the door open for them struggling against the elements.

Once inside and dry, Dora found the cold didn't abate. The prison was chaotic, filled with the screams and cries of inmates.

"Welcome to Azkaban." Growled the lead Auror, Alastor Moody. "It is important that each and every one of you understands where we send our prisoners."

It was the worst place Nymphadora had ever seen in her life. The lower levels of the prison were for minor offenders, they looked haunted and ragged in their cells, filthy and shivering with stained clothing that hung off their frames. There were very few dementors on that level, just enough to keep the temperature low and the mood somber. A few were muttering wildly under their breath, one inmate was collapsed on the ground, repeatedly knocking his head against the wall, a lost look in his eyes. Seeing the group of Aurors excited a few who proceeded to knock against their prison, small cages large enough to hold a single metal platform she presumed was their bed and a metal toilet. They yelled and raged, desperate for help and attention, and were promptly dealt with by the dementors who swooped in to suck the excess emotion from their souls.

Azkaban was monstrous. The higher they climbed in the tour, the quieter the group grew as their horror set in. The further they went the more dementors were present and the colder it grew. A few of the Aurors patronuses lost their vitality, dimming in colour as the group of dementors grew larger. Some went out entirely, forcing the owner to frantically try to recast it while hiding in the warmth of others spells. Dora's jackrabbit held strong so far, though its once energetic gait was more subdued as she walked slowly through the prison.

They were almost at the top level, the place where they kept the most notorious and vicious prisoners. Inmates who were so terrible, they weren't given the basic humanity of a metal framed bed, and were only permitted to shower once yearly in cold spray. These people had their names and identities scrubbed, their cells uninsulated against the freezing wind and rain from the storm, as well as the ocean spray from towering waves.

The smell hit her first, a wave of human excrement and unwashed bodies. This level was shockingly quiet, with husks of human beings sitting and staring into space, their eyes unfocussed and the grip on their minds long gone. A few were crying, quiet sobs that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, and a few muttered wildly under their breath, repeating phrases over and over again as their mind slipped into mania.

Dora nearly stopped walking, peering into the cells, looking for someone and hoping she wouldn't find her. The group moved on ahead of her, the look on the new Auror's faces were all pale with expressions that ranged from contempt, disgust, and fear. She hung near the back, looking and looking, until finally, she found her.

Her skin was bone white from years in the darkness, her hair, dark and matted, lacking all of the luster she knew it once had. She was skeletal, her skin waxen against her face, every hollow visible, emphasising her strong jawline and high cheekbones. Her eyes were sunken into her face, closed as she rested against the wall of her cell, in the corner farthest from the cage door.

Dora stopped completely, drawing closer to the cell, her curiosity overwhelming her in. She could see the similarities the more she looked, she understood now when everyone said Cassiopeia looked just like her. So this was the woman who haunted her cousin's dreams and hung over her as a shadow. She had seen the mere mention of this woman cow Cassiopeia and she had seen how this woman's memory could break the normally strong and resilient witch.

This was Bellatrix Lestrange.

Her patronus must've created a break in her normally cold and drab existence, for the woman's eyes shot open, glittering in the darkness, as a small grin started to appear on her face.

The two women stared at each other, one in horror and the other in excitement. The group was now a dozen feet away from her, moving slowly further away, and Nymphadora was caught captive by the gaze of a mad woman.

Bellatrix cocked her head to the side as she took in the stranger in front of her cell, her eyes unsettlingly sharp, with a grin to match. She slowly pushed herself off of her wall onto her knees, carefully moving closer to the young girl who was still frozen in shock.

She jumped back in terror, knocking into someone as Bellatrix, no longer moving slowly, leapt forward, pushing herself against the walls of her cage, her pale arms reaching through the small openings, a sharp glint of a silver ring reflecting off the firelight, desperately clawing at the young Auror.

She fought against the arms wrapping around her, pushing her forward and away from the cell, the crazed laughter of Bellatrix Lestrange echoing against the walls of the prison, chilling her to the bone.

"I got you lass." growled Moody once more, moving his protege away from her aunt. "Thought ye might get curious."

The laugh stayed with Nymphadora long after the left the prison, bouncing across the walls of her mind, the memory keeping her up in the early hours of the night, and for the first time she understood her cousin a little better. She had only seen the woman for a few moments, with her securely locked up, she couldn't imagine living with the woman for years.

She stared at her clock, it was three in the morning and she still hadn't been able to sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about the woman, and about her cousin. Cassiopeia had been trying so hard to establish a relationship, to show she was sorry and Dora had done everything in her power to shoot her down and make her feel substandard.

She shot out of bed, pulling on her robes and jamming a hat on her head, apparating out of her house before she could change her mind, appearing in an alleyway in a muggle city on the other side of the country.

She pushed open a door that led to a long hallway and some stairs, running her eyes across the mailboxes along the wall at the far end. Smith, flat 2.

She pounded on the door of apartment 2 impatiently, shifting her weight nervously foot to foot.

"Sod the fu-Dora? What in the bloody-" Cassiopeia pulled the door open, her eyes heavily lidded from sleep, wearing an overlong shirt and not much else.

She engulfed her cousin in a sweeping hug, "I am so sorry Cass, i've been such a knobhead these past few months. You've been trying to explain it to me and to apologise and i've just been such a berk about the whole thing."

Cassiopeia was silent as she tried to process the wild change of events and the decidedly strange situation, her brain still waking up.

"Oh-uh, well brilliant. I guess." she hesitantly, her arms still hanging at her sides, her posture stiff and awkward. "This couldn't wait until the morning?" she asked tiredly.

"I had to tell you." Dora squeezed her harder, burying her face in Cassiopeia's shoulder as she fought to chase away that horrible echoing laugh.

Sensing something was seriously wrong with her adopted sister, Cassiopeia reluctantly returned the hug, patting her awkwardly on the back as the hug continued to last for an uncomfortable amount of time

"Dora? How do you know where I live?" She sounded more awake as she started to process the whole strange situation.

She finally pulled away, her face turning red, "I've been tailing you for about three months as part of my tracking training. You are suspiciously difficult to follow by the way."

"Brilliant." She said dryly, taking a step back further into her flat in an effort to reduce any chance of another long hug. "Might as well come in I suppose." she opened the door further before stumbling into her kitchen to turn on kettle.

Her flat was modest, a small living room with a small kitchen tucked away to the side, and a single doorway where she spied a large double bed with the covers messily made. It was sparsely decorated with mismatched and well worn furniture and various hand drawn posters stuck to the walls advertising music gigs and protests. Dora took a seat on one of her couches, noticing a sizable cassette and vinyl collection against one wall and an impressive sound system. It was probably the only thing of worth in the whole flat she reckoned.

"This is what you've been hiding?" Dora remarked while looking around the flat.

"What did you expect?" She asked sharply

"I dunno, something more... worth hiding. I guess I am surprised that this is it. After all this time trying to track you down, and all of your secrecy, its a little disappointing" she finally said, a familiar irritation building in her chest. After everything, this was so unremarkable, why did she go to such lengths to hide it?

Cassiopeia scowled at her sister, crossing her arms defensively "What do you want from me Dora? To yell at you about your gross invasion of my privacy? How long were you following me? Why were you following me? What did you really think I was doing?"

"You are just so bloody suspicious! You move around like a criminal on the run, I've seen you use seriously dark magic. The only reason you're not in Azkaban right now is because I'm the only witness and Amelia Bones is impressed by you for some reason." Nymphadora retorted, taking an angry step forward.

Cassiopeia glared at her sister darkly, leaning heavily against the counter. "So what you want to do this now then? Have it out? How about we start your surveillance of me?"

Dora scowled in irritation at her sister, "How about we start with why you won't tell anyone where you live? Has it got to do with that muggle boy?"

Cassiopeia reddened slightly, "which muggle boy?"

"The one with the spikes, I saw you two together. You know we don't care about that right?" Dora said, crossing her arms defensively.

Cassiopeia screwed up her face, glancing up at the ceiling as she thought. "Spikes" she said lowly thinking, before shaking her head. "I don't have a boyfriend Dora. And I know you wouldn't mind if he was a muggle." she said finally, giving up on trying to remember who she was talking about.

"Then why? You apparate to how many locations before you get here? Why are you so paranoid about anyone following you?"

"Because someone was clearly following me," she snapped. Dora glared at her and Cassiopeia sighed deeply, looking suddenly very tired as she went over to her fridge pulling out a pair of beer bottles, offering one to her sister.

"So I guess we are doing this tonight." She said heavily wandering across the room to sit in one of her beat up chairs, tea long forgotten.

"Look Dora there are things about the world that you don't know, that I would prefer if you didn't know because you'd be a much happier person without the knowledge and it would just burden you."

"Oh because saying that is real enlightening and makes me really want to trust you. What a load of dragon dung Cass." Nymphadora accepted her beer.

Cassiopeia ran a hand through her hair angrily, her face screwing up in frustration and a little pain. Damn Dora for being so curious. Damn her for following her and not trusting her. But then, she had done little to foster trust with the auror cadet.

"He's alive." She finally said quietly before taking a long drink from her beer.

"Who's alive? Why can't you just say something plainly." Dora was exasperated, tired of her sisters drama.

"The Dark Lord." Her voice cracked, chills erupting along her skin as she spoke his name, suddenly, irrationally worried that the man himself would appear if she called him.

Dora was quiet for a moment, staring at her as if she had grown another head.

"Merlin you are delusional Cass. He's gone and isn't coming back. Grow up why don't you."

"No Dora. You don't understand I know he's alive. He's weak but he's out there. I just... I just don't want any of you to come and find me if he gains his power again. My mother can find me, He can find me, and I thought if no one knew where I was, then I could hide here and you wouldn't be the wiser." Cassiopeia took a long drink from her beer. Talking about Him made her skin crawl, it was easy to pretend most the time that she was a normal person, with a normal job and normal life problems. It was almost easy to pretend he wasn't coming back. She nervously fingered her silver bracelet, terror taking root in the pit of her stomach.

Dora was completely shocked. Of all the responses and explanations she could imagine, this wasn't even a remote possibility for her sisters secrecy. She personally thought Cassiopeia was crazy but she could also see that she believed this, and that she was afraid.

"Cass it took me months to find you, it would take even longer for your parents or You-Know-Who to locate you." she said softly, trying to placate the girls irrational fears.

She jerked her head in irritation, "My mother cursed me. Placed a tracking charm on this bracelet, it connects us. No matter where I am in the world she can always find me."

"Your mother is in Azkaban Cassiopeia. Locked up tight, I —I know this for a fact. Nobody has ever left Azkaban. It's impossible."

"You don't know her Dora" she whispered, angrily wiping a stray tear away. "There? Are you happy now? You know all my secrets." She said bitterly, crossing her arms and curling in on herself.

Dora felt a strange pang in her heart as she looked at her cousin, her sister who had finally let all of her carefully constructed walls down and abandoned her tough and confident exterior. She was vulnerable, truly vulnerable as she spoke of her deepest fears.

Dora realised something then, something that should've been obvious now that she thought about it. Cassiopeia was scared, terrified even, of the spectre of the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who. She was haunted by her own personal boogeyman. She had always been, and perhaps always would be.

She sighed deeply and moved to the seat next to her sister, placing her hand on Cassiopeia's, delicately hooking her finger around the silver charm and ignoring the flinch from the girl. Dora raised her sisters arm to get a closer look at the trinket.

"So Bellatrix made this to track you?" She asked letting out a snort when her sister nodded, her eyes wide. "Merlin, I always hated this bracelet. I thought you kept it on to show off your former wealth. I thought it was your way to remind us that you were better than us."

It was Cassiopeia's turn to let out a strangled laugh. Snatching back her arm and twisting the bracelet angrily.

"Hardly. This was my punishment for running away. It meant I could never do that ever again, she made sure of it. I've spent years trying to figure this damned thing out. Look." Cassiopeia pulled it tight against her wrist, exposing the inside of the bracelet.

The Dark Mark was etched on the inside, a permanent reminder of her past and her future.

"Does Mom and Dad know?" Dora asked

"It was the first thing I told Andromeda. She had to understand the consequences of helping me. The danger she was putting her family in. My mother would kill you all slowly, and would enjoy it. I only came because she was in Azkaban." She said lowly, wiping another tear away angrily. It was late, she was tired, and she did not particularly want to have this conversation with Dora. Or with anyone for that matter.

"Cass, she's still in Azkaban."

"But He's not." She said quietly, Dora didn't understand. She couldn't. "He'll find a way to come back. Dora he's so powerful, I've never met anyone like him, it's like an electricity in the air, he thrums with magic. He's a force of nature. Inevitable." She said hollowly, thinking of all the things she'd have to do when he came back.

Nymphadora examined the girl as she stared into the darkness. She was trembling in fear.

"You've met Him. You-Know-Who."

It wasn't a question. Regardless she just nodded shortly.

There was little left to say. It was late, it was dark, they were both tired. Dora wrapped her arm around Cassiopeia and pulled her close, her mind turning over what she had said. She was surprised when she felt her cousin's arm wrap around her side, returning the embrace.

"I've been a terrible cow Cass." She said

"Yes. You have. But I've done a lot to make you suspicious. I just, I don't know when he will come back, but I don't want regrets Dora. I want to live what life I have now to the fullest. I want to cherish this time. And I want you to be safe."

Dora shook her head, her sister was delusional sure but she believed in this delusion entirely. She would have to work on allaying her fears but that was for a future conversation.

"Is this why you live in the muggle world?"

She shrugged, breaking her embrace and straightening slowly, clearing her throat. "The muggle world is nice, its simpler, and I have friends here. There is no baggage."

"There is no Bellatrix Lestrange in the muggle world." Dora said quietly

The two sat in silence lost in their own thoughts. Nymphadora was back in the prison, looking at the crazed mania of her aunt, while Cassiopeia was lost in her mind palace, mentally triple checking all of her barriers were firmly in place.

"There is a blanket and some pillows over there. This is the more comfortable couch. Kettle is over there, there is food in the fridge, alcohol in that cupboard, and the loo is through my room. I've got spare toothbrushes in there, i'll leave one out for you. I get coffee every morning at 6, you're welcome to join if you wake up. Make yourself at home for now." She sounded tired as she gestured around the small flat.

"So that's it? After all this secrecy you're just gonna let it drop?" Dora replied dumbly

"If I move will you try and follow me again?" She asked, eyeing her sister.

"Most probably." she might as well be honest about it.

"Then I guess this is it. Don't tell your parents, or I will break your nose again and move to a place you'll never find. Don't tell anyone for that matter, don't talk about it, don't mention it in passing, better if you could just forget where I live. And stop bloody following me like a creep."

"Merlin you are exhausting."

"And when He comes back, do not come here. Ever." she was quieter as she said that, standing up abruptly and throwing a blanket at her sister. "Sleep." and with that she marched back to her bedroom, shutting the door solidly.

True to her word Cassiopeia was ready to leave the house at 6 am, with a groggy and irritable Nymphadora in tow.

They first went to the cafe that Dora had spent weeks trying to find, where Cassiopeia ordered them both large breakfasts and coffee, greeting the few fellow early risers with nods and smiles. Like last time she left a purple note on the bar and walked away without any change.

"This is a cool place, it's all part of a community centre and a collective living unit. It was an abandoned building, just laying empty and useless, so a few people took it over as a squat back in '85. The council wasn't too keen on that so they tracked down the building owner and tried to get this lot arrested and evicted. The building was then anonymously bought and turned into what it is today.

There is a community garden, a shelter for those sleeping rough, and all the people living in the flats are part owner. There are some shops that operate out the building, a printing press, some clothes shops, and an art studio. Open to all." She smiled at her surroundings, her eyes gleaming happily.

"All that art is done in house, the council hates it, but we pay our taxes and own it fair and square." she pointed at the brightly coloured murals and graffiti along the walls.

Dora raised her eyebrows as her sister spoke, she had known most of this information from her tailing, but to she didn't think she had ever heard Cassiopeia speak so enthusiastically about anything in her life.

"Anonymously bought huh?" she asked suspiciously, accepting a plate of food from the barista.

"The money raised here is being fed back into the community and we are thinking of expanding to buy a few more buildings around the city, and perhaps move it to other cities. Work with other large squats." she continued, digging into her breakfast.

"Er these sausages look interesting." Dora said, carefully poking the offending looking piece of meat with her fork.

"It's a veggie sausage. Try it, it's quite good."

"Since when were you vegetarian?" Dora asked incredulously, pushing away the sausage and digging into her eggs and beans.

"For a few years now, I am sick of death in the world." she said seriously, spearing her own veggie sausage and eating it happily.

"So this is where the Lestrange fortune is going to. Helping muggles?" Dora continued, looking around curiously. "Your parents would hate this."

Cassiopeia snorted, "My parents would burn this place down after sealing all the doors. Everything is funnelled through several shell corporations to make it nearly impossible to trace it back to the Lestrange family. Though Father would be happy to know that the fortune is being invested wisely elsewhere, growing the fortune legitimately through business for the first time in generations. Apparently most of the previous Lestranges were quite happy to spend the money without finding a way to replenish it."

Dora pushed her food away, losing her appetite as they spoke about her cousins impossibly large wealth. "Why do you even bother to work if you're doing so well on your inheritance." she asked sourly.

Cassiopeia gave her sister a sharp look at her tone, "I don't use that money Dora. It's not for me, and you said it yourself, it's blood money. I set up charities and scholarships for this world and ours. I work because I believe in what I do, and I need to pay my own bills. Everything I own and have is from my own money, not the Lestrange fortune."

Dora shook her head, almost disgusted at the her sisters waste, "So you just let it sit there and what? Gain value while you live in a shabby flat."

"It's gaining value so the charities that rely on it remain soluble for the future. I don't know the exact figures, but I can get you the books if you like. I have a very good solicitor and team just across the road." she said, polishing off her breakfast and pulled Dora's abandoned plate towards her.

"I know, that's how I found you. Through that other witch that works across the way is dangerously close to breaking the statute of secrecy by the way, employing muggles like that."

Cassiopeia shrugged, wiping her mouth and pushing away what was left of Dora's breakfast, finally full. "Lima is the best in the business." she said simply.

"This whole thing is mental, you know that right?" Dora said in exasperation, staring at her cousin as if this was the first time she had ever seen her. In a lot of ways, this was the most she had ever known about Cassiopeia, from her fears to her burgeoning business.

"Look Dora, what would you do if you were suddenly given say a million galleons of blood money?"

"I'd-uh" she paused, her initial reaction was to say she would buy a load of cool stuff, a nice house for her and her parents, she'd quit her job, buy a really fast broomstick maybe. But that wasn't true, sure she'd buy a few things, but she would also feel guilty, knowing the money was dirty. And she loved her job, it was her dream job.

"Exactly. I don't want it, but I have it. I might as well use it in a way I can stomach. This was the first project I did, but we are working on setting up a magical orphanage in London, a stipend for gifted muggle born witches and wizards to complete education post Hogwarts, we donate to the school supply fund for students going to Hogwarts who are experiencing economic hardship, and a charity that helps muggle families handle being thrust into the wizarding world." Cassiopeia ran her hand through her hair and sighed deeply. "I am trying to best I can Dora, with what I have. And i'm doing all this while remaining anonymous, i've got people working full time on that, making it all untraceable."

"Bloody hell Cass." she said. It was incredible that she was doing so much, but Dora felt the whole thing reeked of desperation and rich guilt. Her sister was trying to fix the world because her parents had done so much to mess it up, she was motivated not by philanthropy, but shame. Did it matter though? At the end of the day, the world was just a little bit better because of her.

"Yeah." she said, feeling suddenly very tired with all of her cards on the table. Dora was the only person outside of her solicitor who knew any details of her life and background operations. She felt strangely relieved to get it all out on the table and to come clean about almost everything.

"Come on, let's get a coffee to take away. My shift at Gringotts is starting soon." she said heavily, sitting up and bringing the empty plates to the counter.

"Yeah, sure." Dora said, following her sister in a daze.

XXX

The last time Cassiopeia was at the Burrow she had been a child and was running away. She was a little unnerved to see that the house looked almost identical to how she remembered. Apparently Mrs Weasley was not struck with the re-decorating bug that Andromeda was frequently victim to.

Different smells and sounds triggered her memories that washed over her. She looked at the small china hutch in the corner of the kitchen. She had climbed inside of that, hiding with the table cloths and other kitchen linens and eavesdropped on the family. She also eavesdropped on Order meetings. There were small changes the more she looked. The Weasleys had a big family that was always growing and she could see the accommodations they had made to fit everyone.

Dinner was a loud and boisterous affair, and a squeeze with the whole family present. She was seated next to Charlie and across from Bill and was quite the center of attention. The twins especially fawned over her, examining all of her tattoos curiously while rapid firing questions.

"What's the grossest thing you've ever seen at the hospital?"

"What's the worst curse you've ever seen?"

"Did this tattoo hurt? George I'm gonna get your name tattooed on me"

"Fred I'm going to get your name tattooed on me, next to mums face"

"I'm gonna get dads face tattooed on me."

"Not if I get it first!" And so the bickering continued between the twins.

"If either of you gets any tattoos so help me!" Mrs Weasley said sharply glaring at the boys, "not that we don't like yours darling" she said sweetly smiling at Cassiopeia.

She smirked at the boys and took off her outer robe to show them more.

"Bloody hell, you're covered!" They exclaimed together each grabbing an arm and looking it over while she laughed.

"Language boys," Mr Weasley said mildly, his eyes also caught by the artwork.

"Are those muggle tattoos?" He asked curiously.

"Yeah, my mate is an artist who is rather enthusiastic." She said sheepishly.

"Fascinating. How do they do it without magic?" He leaned forward eagerly.

And so the evening passed with Cassiopeia explaining how a tattoo gun worked and once Mr Weasley found out she lived in the muggle world more questions followed.

"Do you know how fellyfones work Cassiopeia?" asked one of the younger boys, Ron.

She couldn't help the laugh that came as she realised his question. "Telephones. And yes of course. Is there someone you want to ring?"

He screwed up his face as he tried to understand while Mr Weasley focussed on their conversation.

"Yeah my mate Harry. He lives with some awful muggles and he gave me some numbers that he said I could reach him at."

This followed a frankly hilarious after dinner telephone attempt in the shed where Arthur kept all of his muggle toys.

She took it slow with them, first having them ring her landline so they could practice putting in the numbers. Then they called Ted who seemed amused at the Weasleys attempts to speak to him through the phone.

"Yes, I can hear you quite well Arthur, no need to yell" she could hear Ted's voice coming out of the phone, "THIS IS MARVELLOUS!" Shouted Arthur in excitement.

"Here, give it here- sorry Ted, they're still learning. Cheers for being a good sport about this." She apologised into the line.

"Anytime kiddo, this has been quite the adventure. It took Andromeda years to stop yelling into the phone. She still does sometimes. Anyways, I've gotta run, she's giving me the look if you know what I mean."

"Cheers Ted." She said once more before hanging up.

In a good mood after the phone adventure the trip made their way back into the house for a spot of pudding.

"Come on Cass, I'll walk you out to the apparition point," Charlie offered after dessert was had and as the conversation and night waned.

"Sure Charlie," She said, feeling suddenly nervous at the prospect of being alone with the boy. Aside from the message about his sister, she hadn't spoken to him since their fight years ago. Bill said he was fine with what happened but she wasn't certain she was.

They walked in the silence through the yard. It was a pleasant, clear evening that was just starting to turn nippy. It was peaceful and still, so different from the last time she was there, running frantically and calling out the Dark Lord's name to summon the catchers.

"Hey Charlie, can we talk for a moment?" She stopped him, shaking her head to rid her of the dark memory.

"Sure Cass," he smiled at her warmly and paused.

"I just- I wanted to say I'm sorry for that fight years ago. There is no excusing my behaviour, I was in the wrong and caught up with that arsehole, thinking I was in love."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, "Merlin, I haven't thought about that in ages. I take it you aren't still with Gambol then?"

She couldn't stop the low hiss that left her mouth at the sound of his name, scowling darkly. "Merlin no. I've been in a rather fulfilling relationship with myself for years."

"It's nice to hear you are doing well. And Bill says you're doing brilliant at work, I'm happy for you Cass." He said warmly, giving her an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder.

"Yeah. Are you enjoying Romania? Working with dragons must be harrowing."

"It's my dream, I love it." He said, his face lighting up as he thought about it.

The pair reached the edge of the houses boundaries, an empty field filled with long grass. They paused, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Remember the last time we were here?" He asked quietly, staring at the darkness beyond the house.

"I was going back to my parents. I was running away from your family." She whispered, remembering the fear she felt as the catchers appeared to take her away.

They stood in silence each lost in their respective memories. "I never understood why you did that. I remember being confused and afraid."

"I'm am sorry you felt that way, but I don't regret it." She said simply.

The silence continued. It stretched, deafening between the two.

"Wanna go to the pub?" He asked suddenly.

"Yes please." She said, feeling desperate for a drink suddenly.

"There is one in town. Here," he held out his arm invited her to accompany him.

Cassiopeia and Charlie grabbed a private booth in the busy pub and drank in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally Charlie asked the question she had been dreading.

"Why did you leave?"

She took a few more gulps of alcohol, feeling the pleasant buzz settling in her brain, numbing her emotions.

"My mother would've killed you. She would've found me eventually and you would all be gone. I couldn't let that happen." She said softly, drinking some more.

Charlie was silent, thinking over her words with a frown. "Was it awful? Going back? I was always too afraid to ask..." he trailed off, his eyes flirting between her face and his beer.

She was struck between telling him part of the truth or a nice lie that he could live with. "It was—challenging. Again, I don't regret going back Charlie. I was made, quite literally it turns out, to be in that environment and with them. I am grateful for your family for helping me when I needed it and for giving me another perspective on life. It helped, knowing you were out there, alive and safe. You understand it's a part of life I don't like talking about right?" She said, feeling like she owed him an answer while also remaining vague enough to protect him.

He nodded, taking another long drink. "So... St Mungos" he started, searching for a new topic, "What's the most mental thing you've seen there?"

And so they continued until bar close, talking about everything and nothing, with a heavy darkness lurking in the back of their minds as the memories of the past threatened to overwhelm their present.

Xxx

Cassiopeia was buried deeply in her work at St Mungos, trying to sort through a rather complicated series of spells Mr Spavin had assigned her to decode to help her pass the time when the hospital was slow. He had designed this particular spell to challenge her personally, knowing all of her weaknesses and gaps in knowledge. It was tricky, time consuming, and frustrating. She was loving every moment of it.

A loud knock sounded through her makeshift office in the basement research area, causing her to twitch in irritation and surprise at the sound. Normally visitors were few and far between, but it was the middle of the night, it was virtually unheard of anyone coming down to that area of the hospital. It was why she chose that spot to study.

"Cass?" Nymphadora poked her head around the door, looking around carefully. "You working on anything explosive?" she asked cautiously, hiding behind the door as she peered in.

The last time Dora had come down to visit her Cassiopeia had been working on a rather volatile curse with a hairpin trigger that had a fairly negative reaction with the change in air pressure that came with an opening door. It left both girls shocked and fairly singed in the aftermath.

"Alright Dora? What're you doing up?" she called, sitting back in her chair, waving in her sister. She raised her eyebrows when she saw Dora was in her full Auror robes, ready for duty.

Dora came into the room fully, her face very serious, her hands out in a placating gesture. "I want to start by saying don't worry, you are totally safe and that we are doing everything we can to get this situation under control." she said carefully, eyeing her sister.

Cassiopeia sat forward, her stomach twisting unpleasantly. "Starting with that makes me very worried Dora. What's happening?"

"Your parents are still safely locked up in Azkaban. Everything is under control." she continued.

Cassiopeia felt ill, "Dora, you are not reassuring me. In fact you are doing the opposite of that. What's happened?"

"Do you know Sirius Black?" she asked carefully, blocking the exit and keeping her sister and her wand in her clear sights.

Her heart was beginning to beat rapidly and she felt a cold sweat break out across her forehead. "My mother's cousin. Arsehole." she said carefully, "Dora, just tell me what happened? Why are you asking me about him?" she opened and closed her fist, a nervous energy starting to fill her body.

"I just want you to know that attacking me, even as a response to heightened emotions, is a criminal offense and I will have to bring you in to cool down if you do."

"For fucks sake Dora tell me what in Merlin's name is going on." she slammed her fist down on the table causing the Auror Cadet to flinch slightly.

"Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban prison early this morning."

She felt as if the floor had dropped out beneath her. She found it suddenly very hard to draw breath.

"Escaped?" she finally whispered, trying to fathom how someone could possibly escape.

"We have every person on the ground now, I am supposed to be out there, but they let me come here and tell you personally, so you wouldn't have to read about it in the papers." she said, eyeing her sister carefully, waiting for the other wand to drop.

"My parents? Was he in the same area as them? Have you checked? Are they there?" she asked frantically, her hand flying to the silver bracelet around her wrist. She had to go, she had to get out of there, she had to get to safety.

"They are still there Cass, they are still in prison. We don't know how he did it, but there is no sign that anyone helped him. There is also no indication that you are a target of his." she said quickly, trying to reassure the girl before she had a full on meltdown.

Cassiopeia for her part was breathing deeply, practicing her mental exercises to help stave off the oncoming panic attack. They were still in prison. He acted alone. She was safe. For now.

"You said no one could escape Dora." she whispered, clenching her fists tightly, anxious energy lancing around her body as her fight or flight response activated.

"No one has before." Dora leaned forward, snapping her fingers in front of her sisters face to get her attention, "And no one ever will again. We will catch him and we will patch whatever security hole he exploited. This will never happen again. I swear it, we've even got the muggles looking for him Cass." Dora sounded so sure, so confident that she was right.

But she had sounded the same when she reassured her that Azkaban was impossible to escape from. That it was impenetrable. She shook her head and stood up abruptly to pace back and forth, attempting to burn off some nervous energy.

They said he was a Death Eater, that he gave up his friends the Potters. She personally thought it was a load of bollocks, she had only ever seen Black as part of the Order. He had never been in the Lestrange manor and he had never attended one of the meetings that she saw. He hated her mother and had inherently distrusted her. There was no way he was a Death Eater, and if he was, then she doubted the Dark Lord would choose him as the first person to liberate from prison.

He was acting alone and that reassured her a little bit. "Where do you think he is going?" she asked while feeling slightly calmer about the whole situation after she logically thought it out.

"I can't say Cass im sorry, it's classified. But it's not here and he's not after you." she said apologetically, relaxing slightly as she saw Cassioepia wrestle her emotions under control.

She nodded, it was annoying, but she understood. "Thank you for informing me Dora. You must be needed out there for the search." She said softly, calmly. It alarmed Dora.

"Yeah, but you are also a priority. What are you going to do now? Nothing stupid I hope?" she asked warily, not quite trusting her sister's change of attitude.

Cassiopeia shrugged, looking a little lost. "I think I will pay my Aunt Narcissa a visit. She's been trying to find time for tea for weeks since Lucius was sacked from the school board of governors."

"It's the middle of the night Cass. She'll be asleep surely." Dora pointed out.

Right, of course it was. She glanced at her work, still pacing around the room. There was no way she'd be able to concentrate now, not with all of this on her mind. She sighed heavily, "I guess I'll go home then. Maybe get a drink at my local, see who is around." she nodded as she thought it through. A drink sounded good, being in the muggle world sounded safe. She would see Narcissa tomorrow, she would know better about Black and her suspicions.

"Are you sure you are alright? I can stay longer if you like," Dora asked slowly, eyeing the girl.

Cassiopeia tossed her head in irritation, "Go Dora, you have a job to do, criminals to catch. I will be fine, safe in my home."

Nymphadora nodded uncertainty, glancing at her timepiece on her wrist, before nodding once more. "I'll be working double time probably to deal with this. If you need me for any reason pop by the office and you can find me there yeah? Don't hesitate to contact me"

"Dora, you're wasting time."

"Seriously Cass. Don't do anything stupid, I promise, we'll get this whole thing sorted out."

"Whatever, just go." She said, sitting heavily back in front of her work, giving her sister a pointed look.

"Right, be safe Cass."

"You too Dora."

When the door closed after her Cassiopeia let herself slump forward over her desk, burying her head in her hands. He was working alone, he had to be. It was a one off, a fluke that he could escape. It would be impossible for her parents to. Right?

But it wasn't impossible for them to escape. Improbable, but not impossible.

Improbable would have to do.

A/N _This was originally supposed to be part of the last chapter but I felt like the beginning didnt fit the tone of the last chapter, and deserved to be on its own. We finally see a major step forward in Dora and Cassiopeia's relationship, where their years of hostility is finally mending in a more permanent long term basis._


	6. Chapter 6: Friendships and Subterfuge

Sirius Black was still at large. Everywhere she looked she saw his face. He even followed her into the muggle world, his escape making front page news in all the local papers and was featured on the television.

The Aurors so far had no luck catching him and she was beginning to fear they never would. There was a hole in their security and they would never find it.

She had taken some comfort when her Aunt Narcissa quietly confirmed her suspicions about Black being a Death Eater before reminding her that she was not privy to most Death Eater business. It was all she would say before moving onto safer, socially acceptable topics.

To make matters worse, things were changing at work, at both of her internships and it made her nervous and suspicious.

It started at Gringotts when Bill had gone away on holiday with his family to Egypt. She had been assigned a few tasks to do alone, away from the supervision of a fully qualified curse breaker. It was course work essentially, objects that were cursed that she was supposed to identify the origin of, the purpose of, map out the magic, and occasionally break the magic of. But they weren't objects from any project, it was like they had been made for the only purpose to test her.

The same had been happening at St Mungos for a little while, with Mr Spavin claiming it was just to keep her sharp in between actual cursed victims. But then an actual curse had come through the doors and she had been grounded to the basement working on those bloody test curses she had been set while Mr Spavin dealt with the patient personally.

"I dunno Cassiopeia, it sounds like you're overthinking everything" Theo tried to reassure her.

"I just—I feel like I'm being punished for something you know? It's wigging me out and it's embarrassing being sent away from an actual case," She grumbled, angrily spearing a piece of broccoli on her plate.

She and Theo went to his house at least once a week initially to work on her healing magic, but it had quickly morphed into dinner and drinks instead. It turned out that he was a pretty magnificent cook.

"Lionel probably has his reasons. He loves you Cass. I reckon he's plotting something that will ultimately be beneficial to you."

She just shrugged, taking a sip from her beer, "he is always plotting," she said slowly, not quite feeling as optimistic as her friend.

"Why don't you just ask him about it?" He said opening another beer and passing it to her after casting a quick chilling spell on the bottle.

"I don't know how. How do I bring it up in conversation? What if I offend him or what if he is actually angry at me and questioning him makes him more cross. Merlin knows I can't question the Goblins. They only like me because I do so much business with them personally." She ran her hands through her hair nervously, pushing her food away as her anxiety spoiled her appetite.

"Come on, you're just torturing yourself over this. Lets try practice some healing spells. I'll box this up so you can take it for lunch tomorrow."

She nodded reluctantly standing to help him clear away the plates.

"I thought I was doing so good you know? I was feeling good about my contributions, like I was actually doing something meaningful."

"You are doing brilliantly. You are brilliant." He said softly, waving her out of the kitchen as he set the dishes to wash themselves.

"You're just saying that because you're disgustingly nice." She huffed, shedding her outer robe and drawing her wand.

Theo rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. "Are you sure you're ok with this? Maybe the pain is breaking your concentration." He changed the subject, looking at her seriously. "Perhaps we should practice on me instead."

It was Cassiopeia's turn to roll her eyes. "It's just a scratch Theo, I barely even feel it. And I'm not letting you hurt yourself for me."

He gave her a sceptical look but the argument became a moot point as she drew her wand across her exposed arm, cutting it open.

He conjured up some bandages and dabbed at the blood, examining the wound to ensure it wasn't dangerously deep.

Of course the cut was never too deep, never approached any major blood vessels, and never posed a serious threat. Cassiopeia was a professional. Her mother had been a good teacher in that respect. Obviously Theo had no clue about her childhood education in knives courtesy of her mother and he never would if she could help it. She humored him every time and patiently waited for his approval.

"Looks worse than it actually is. I wish you would let me use anaesthetised animals or something."

"Theo we aren't harming animals and then forcing them to endure my pitiful healing attempts before you finally step in. It's unnecessarily cruel." She said a little sharply. It was an argument they had frequently. She personally found the healer training programmes use of animals barbaric.

"I just think if your nerves weren't firing you would be able to focus."

"It's not a problem with my focus Theo, it's a problem with my magic" she said frustration leaking into her voice.

"It's your mindset. You think you are going to fail and you do Cassiopeia. Until you realise how daft you're being and accept that you can do more than destructive magic as you've so put it then I'm not sure how repeating the same mistakes and expecting different results is going to help. This clearly isn't a method that works for you so let's try something new." He waved his wand over the cut, healing it with the faintest trace of a scar. Cassiopeia knew that even the scar would fade in a few days, he truly was gifted.

He also was frustrating and stupid.

"Arsehole" she muttered in shock as he quickly slashed his wand against his own hand, cutting deeply into his palm with a cry of surprise.

"Morganna's dusty tits that hurts a lot more than I thought it would," He panted, a light sheen of sweat appearing across his forehead as his body registered the injury.

Cassiopeia glared at him conjuring up fresh bandages and pressing it tightly across his hand, holding it firmly as he spasmed and instinctively tried to pull away.

"Merlin you make it look painless," he was breathing deeply now, his hand shaking as adrenaline flooded his system, taking the edge off the pain.

"I have a high pain tolerance you idiot. Sit down before you pass out." She instructed, sitting next to him and examining the wound. He had cut quite deep, if he were a muggle he would certainly have long term nerve damage and mobility issues.

"You are awful with that cutting spell. You cut too deep," she tsked, conjuring more bandages as the bleeding continued.

"Heh. Yeh it's not a spell I use often. But there, you created something, bandages. That's not destructive." He pointed out faintly, the adrenaline beginning to run out.

She glared at him darkly. "Not what I meant and you know it. Go on and heal yourself before you end up seriously passing out. I don't want to drag your unconscious arse back to work."

"No. This is for you. Try healing me. Until I'm convinced you've tried your best, I'm not healing it."

She continued to glare at him. Bloody arsehole. But he met her glare with his own. Stubborn arsehole.

She tried to focus on the spell, on coaxing the skin and muscle tissue to knit back together, for nerves to rebuild their pathways. The wound started to close and the bleeding slowed but as ever she was unable to get the wound to heal completely.

She growled in frustration trying the spell once more. The skin started to move like it was going to close before relaxing once more.

She threw her wand on the couch in frustration, grabbing the bandages once more and summoning a healing potion to pour on the wound.

Theo's eyes were wide as she carefully placed a few drops of the tincture on his wound, causing it to close completely.

He continued staring, leaving his hand in hers after she had finished. A warm flush of embarrassment and frustration started to build in her chest and climbed up to her cheeks as he looked at her, feeling self conscious about her rubbish attempts at healing.

"I told you it wouldn't work." She grumbled, looking away and trying to pull her hand back. He closed his hand around hers, preventing that.

"Cassiopeia do you have any idea what you just did?"

"I know I'm shite you don't have to rub it in." Her face now flaming as she closed her eyes In mortification.

"You just did wandless magic. I don't know why you are struggling with healing spells but your magical strength is not the problem. I've never seen that before outside of children of course."

She looked at him very closely then, looking for any sign of falsehood. He was being ridiculous, she had never done wandless magic before and she certainly didn't do it then.

"Theo I think the blood loss is getting to you. Let me get you a few biscuits and some juice." He tightened his grip on her hand, stopping her from getting up.

"You don't even realise it." He huffed in disbelief, his eyes still wide. "I wonder if you've done this before and never noticed. Like a reflex," he was looking at her curiously now, completely oblivious to her growing discomfort and embarrassment.

"Stop joking around Theo." She said, starting to feel uneasy for the first time ever in his company.

"Cassiopeia, how did you grab that potion bottle?" He asked her simply.

He had lost it. Truly lost it. "I grabbed it." She said slowly, looking into his eyes to see if he was exhibiting any symptoms of head trauma. Maybe he had hit it on a cabinet earlier and she hadn't noticed. He was rather tall after all.

"But it was on my coffee table." He said simply, raising his eyebrows in challenge.

"I know, I threw down in my wand and reached over and grabbed it," she repeated. His pupils looked fine, not overly dilated. There was no visible sign of injury but it was hard to see with all of his hair.

"But the coffee table is way over there and you were still holding my hand and treating my injury."

She stared at him and at the coffee table sceptically, visually judging the distance. It did look a little far. But he must be remembering wrong, perhaps she did drop his hand to grab the potion.

But no, she didn't remember dropping his hand either. She pulled her hands out of his and backed away on the couch, her mind beginning to race. How did she get the potions bottle? Did she really summon it? Had she done that before? What did that mean?

"Look Cass, this just reaffirms what a talented witch you are. And I don't think it was a mistake that you only did that piece of magic while distracted. You've got a big brain but sometimes I feel like you are overthinking things."

"It was just a fluke. Look, thanks for the food and all but I gotta go." She stood up abruptly, her mind still racing over the revelation. Had Theo noticed it before? Maybe she had done similar things without thinking while working in the research room or the library. He was always telling her she was brilliant and clever. Perhaps that was why he pursued a friendship with her. A dark suspicion began to form in the back of her mind, a treacherous thought that was taking hold.

She needed to go, she needed to think, and she needed to have a drink.

"Cass— don't go," Theo stood to head her off st the door. "I'm sorry if I came in a bit strong, look we can stop for the night," he said putting his hands up to placate her.

He also exposed his fresh scar from the healing potion. She doubled her efforts to get past him, huffing in frustration as he tried to block her.

"Are you angry? Merlin you're cross. Can we talk about it? What can I do to make this better Cass?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, her mind turning over her fears. "Why are you friends with me Theo? You're not friends with anyone so why me?" She asked softly.

His eyebrows raised in surprise, "Seriously Cassiopeia?

When he saw her even reaction his eyebrows lowered and his face got very serious. "I'm friends with you because I like you. I can have an intelligent conversation with you, you have a unique understanding of the world around you and you are an honest person. You never pretend to be anything other than what you are and I admire that. And I think you were lonely, and recognised that maybe I was lonely too."

She felt an unfamiliar warmth bloom in her chest, threatening to overwhelm her as it made it difficult to breathe. It was kind words that seemed sincere, that were the right thing to say. Unfortunately for him, she wasn't going to fall for this trick again.

"I don't believe you," She said hoarsely, finding it difficult to talk around the strange emotion before pushing past him and out the door, apparating into the night.

xxx

Nymphadora Tonks jerked awake with a knock on the door of her shared office. She was on her third double shift of the week and she was knackered.

"Commun" she mumbled, stifling a large yawn.

"Hello er you're Tonks right?" Asked a young wizard hesitantly.

"S'on the door. Wotcher." She said sleepily, resting her head against her hand, too tired for full sentences

"I am Theophrastus Ashmole, from St Mungos hospital and well I wanted your help. Not as an auror, but as a Tonks. Your er—Cassiopeia left my flat earlier angry and upset and disappeared. I've checked all the places I could think of but have had no luck. I know she's tough but I'm worried still. I wondered if you knew where she lived, if you could just check on her? Make sure she's alright?"

Dora buried her face in her hands and groaned lightly. Her sister did stupid things when she was angry and she really wanted to go home and go to sleep.

"What'd you do to upset her?" She asked, forcing herself into something resembling action.

He looked a little lost as he searched for an answer. "I'm not sure what it was exactly, I was trying to teach her some healing spells and well I tricked her into healing me. And then I was just telling her how brilliant I found her when she ran off angry."

Dora groaned again. "Cassiopeia does not take praise well. Go home, I'll go and find her." At least Cassiopeia had a surprisingly comfortable couch. She could just crash at hers.

So she dragged herself out of her chair, draining the remains of some cold coffee with a wince, and set out to find her sister who was probably at home, asleep like a normal person. She was sure the boy was probably exaggerating and she resented the waste of her time. But in the off chance Cassiopeia was doing something stupid, she figured she might as well look into it.

And maybe get a coffee and a fry up in the morning from that cafe of hers, minus the veggie sausage.

Dora was dismayed to find she wasn't at her flat. Helping herself to some more coffee, she wandered out into the muggle world, transfiguring her robes lazily.

She found her sister sitting at the bar in a run down pub, staring intently into her glass of spirits, her head tilted and eyebrows furrowed. She looked angry and disgusted, and she was surrounded by more than a few empty glasses.

Dora sighed tiredly as she walked into the pub, bumping into a young woman, or man as she noticed his stubble, wearing a dress, as she entered the pub. "Sorry," she mumbled and he gave her a gentle smile and replied in a soft voice "Don't ever be sorry. You're beautiful" before wandering out the door.

She raised her eyebrows as she watched the strange muggle leave, feeling strangely touched by his compliment. Cassiopeia sure did choose interesting places to drink.

The group sitting next to Cassiopeia, a particularly rough looking bunch were getting ready to leave so she began making her way to take their vacated seats when all hell broke loose with Cassiopeia in the middle.

As the men were passing Cassiopeia she stuck her leg out tripping the first one before standing to push the second one back and smashed her glass into the temple of the third one. The trio were taken entirely by surprise, making her attack all the more effective and devastating and allowed her to get in a few more punches between the men before they could react.

But react they did, and Cassiopeia may have been a gifted fighter, but even she was hard pressed to take on and win against three larger opponents, and the tide began to turn against her as they rained their aggression down on her.

Dora was shocked as she watched the scene erupt, rooted to the spot in horror as she saw her cousin take a punch to the stomach and double over in pain, before retaliating with a well aimed punch to the groin. She had just started reaching for another beer bottle when Dora and the other bar patrons finally came to their senses and surged forward to break up the fight.

"You leave that kid alone," she panted, fighting against Dora and another muggle who was restraining her, "He's done nothing wrong to you."

"You mind your own business you fucking cunt, if we want to bash that twink then that's our business." the man she had glassed in the face spat, also fighting to get past the peace keepers separating them.

"What the fuck is going on here." the bartender yelled as he smashed a glass to get everyone attention. The pub grew silent in shock.

"These fuckers felt a funny feeling in their pants when they saw a pretty man wearing a dress, and were gonna go pay him a visit when he left." she spat, glaring hatefully at the men.

The crowd turned on the men looking at the accusingly, angry mutterings breaking out around the bar.

"She is a filthy liar. The cunt attacked us out of nowhere." one of the men said in retaliation. "She's just sore because the tart propositioned us and we turned her down. We dont pay for back alley whores." another added.

Cassiopeia laughed, as she managed to break free briefly from those holding her, landing another solid kick in the groin before the crowd managed to subdue her once more, "Like i would ever fuck a pig like you. Do you feel more like a man when you beat up defenceless boys that make you feel all funny inside?" she growled ferociously.

Dora was shocked by this change in her sister, having never seen this side of her before. She was extremely intoxicated and unbelievably violent and she was thriving. Dora could see it from the manic gleam in her eye and the vicious smirk on her face, this was her element, she enjoyed this.

And she looked alot like Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Enough. All of you out before I call the constabulary. I never want to see any of your faces again." The bartender roared, glaring at everyone. The crowd started to push Cassiopeia and the men out of the door, and Dora managed to grab onto her sister, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and forcefully pulling her against her.

"Let's get you home," she muttered lowly, glaring at everyone.

Cassiopeia struggled against her grip at first, before relaxing with an amused, slightly crazed laugh, "You bloody creep Dora."

"Oi!" A large man stopped the group of men just before they were ejected, "If anything happens to that beautiful boy me and her," he gestured to Cassiopeia, "will bury you personally. You got that. And if I ever see your faces here again, I promise it will be a mistake you regret for the rest of your life." and with that the men were thrown out of the pub, with Cassiopeia and Dora not far behind.

"Walk it off Smith, and I don't want to see you for a while." the large man said, glaring down at Cassiopeia.

"Fuck off Rod." she said lightly, adjusting her jacket and allowing Dora to pull her away.

"What in Merlin's name Cassiopeia?" Dora hissed as she forced her sister away from the pub and towards her flat.

"Fuck off Dora." was all she said,

"No, you dont get to do that. Instead of going home and getting some bloody sleep, I have to spend my precious time off looking for you because your friend was upset and I find you like this? Drunk and starting fights?"

Cassiopeia shook her head in irritation, digging around her pockets for something.

"And now you're smoking? Since when do you smoke? Bloody hell I do not have enough energy to deal with your—whatever this is," she groaned, fighting to control her hair from changing with her frustration. They were still in the muggle world after all.

"Then fuck off Dora, no one asked you to be here," She grumbled, inhaling deeply from her rolled cigarette, ducking down the alley that held the entrance of her flat.

"Ashmole asked me to check on you, and I'm glad he did. You are bleeding, can we take a moment and talk about how you're bleeding?" She followed the now emotionless girl up the stairs to her door.

Cassiopeia dropped the remnants of her rollie in one of the numerous empty beer bottles that was littered across her flat, shrugging lightly as she examined her bleeding knuckles.

"Nothing I haven't had before," she said coolly.

Dora looked at her sister in concern, she had gone from manic glee to emotionless indifference in a matter of minutes. And the more she looked at her sisters flat, which had been so clean the first time she saw it, her concerns grew. There was beer everywhere, empty bottles and cans, a few empty bottles of spirits tossed haphazardly around.

Her sister was so put together, so professional and dedicated to her work. Dora had thought she had grown and matured, had moved on from the troubled child to a well adjusted adult but looking around she saw that it was clearly a face Cassiopeia wore.

It was clear that the girl was still deeply troubled and self destructive. And perhaps an alcoholic.

The girl in question was putting on a record, frowning when a drop of blood from her nose fell on the hand. She waved her wand to summon a bag from her room, the clinking inside hinting it's contents.

She didn't even have to look as she pulled out a few different vials of potions, conjuring a floating mirror as she drained some and dabbed others on open wounds, watching in grim fascination as her injuries disappeared.

"I missed these potions when I last lived in the muggle world," she mumbled, glancing at her sister in the mirror before dispelling it.

"Go on, yell at me. Whatever." She collapsed her couch, closing her eyes and listening to music.

"What happened between you and Ashmole?" She asked, eyeing the couch thoughtfully. Dora was so sleepy.

"I figured him out. He's just like Gambol, interested in my magic and not me." She said darkly.

Dora was silent, staring at her sister as if she had grown a second head. "This, all of this, and that is what you think? Merlin you are so bloody dense. So, so, so just eurgggh frustrating."

Cassiopeia glared at her sister as she worked herself up into a tired rage.

"Gambol was a git. I told you he was a git and you didn't listen to me. That boy Theo is nothing like Gambol, he hasn't got a malicious bone in his body. He cares about you, even to the point of tracking me down in the middle of the bloody night because he was worried about you. He probably even fancies you a little bit. You need to get over yourself and accept that some people like you for you. Merlin knows why they do because you are a thick idiot sometimes, but it is what it is.

You need to sort yourself out, go to that boy, beg for his forgiveness, and make things right.

We can talk about all of this-"she gestured around the room and in her general direction in disgust, "later."

"You also need to get off the couch, get me your duvet so I can get some bloody rest. You are also going to get me a coffee and breakfast in the morning. I start work in—bloody hell— 6 hours. Move."

And with that Dora collapsed in her couch, falling into a fitful exhausted sleep nearly immediately. Cassiopeia sighed, sunmoning the duvet off her bed and covering her overworked sister, carefully tucking a pillow under her head and taking off her shoes.

She was right. She was a mess and Theo had done nothing to make her suspect he was like Glynn. He had only tried helping her, she wasn't even sure Theo knew how to manipulate people. She had bollocksed it up.

She cleared away some of the beer bottles littering around her flat, feeling the dull throb of a few bruises that remained unhealed.

She wasn't happy she upset Theo but she was glad she had been at the bar that night and heard those men talking about their plans to jump that kid. That boy had been beautiful and gentle. He spent the whole night talking to everyone in the pub and complimenting them warmly. He was trying to bring light and happiness into peoples lives and those men wanted to snuff that light out. She didn't regret her actions, she just wished she had been stronger so she could've hurt them in a long term way.

Muggle intolerance confounded her sometimes. They judged people based on their clothes, their sexual preferences, and their skin colour. In the wizarding world people of both sexes regularly went without trousers, some men even went without pants, they believed the free air to their nethers helped keep their magic strong. Wizards could be flamboyant and witches could be in relationships with each other. There were friendly rivalries between witches and wizards of different countries but there was rarely the level of racism she saw in the muggle world.

The wizarding worlds intolerances were more class based, especially in Britain. They were equally terrible but familiar to her. Blood purity was often falsely linked to power and magical potency. She had seen enough to know that it wasn't so straightforward. Some people were more powerful than others, and maybe blood had a part to play, but it wasn't that simple.

She fell into a fitful sleep, the muggle boy in a beautiful dress floated around her dreams, his words for her acting as a salve to the chipped and bitter parts of her self loathing.

You are perfect exactly the way you are.

Xxx

"Theo I am sorry. No I am so sorry. Theo I just want to explain… I just want to say I was totally unfair. Theo I'm sorry. Theo first I want to say…"

"You're sorry?"

She nearly fell out of her chair in surprise as the boy in question appeared behind her, smirking at her while unslinging his bag and unwinding his sopping scarf.

"I—yes." She sighed, slumping over. "I want to tell you something and I haven't quite figured out the right words yet but if you could just sit down and hear me out without interrupting that would be great." She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans uncomfortably and cleared her throat a few things, trying to find a way through this nervousness.

"I don't deserve your friendship Theo— no interrupting— but I treasure it. People don't like me. Some have good reasons but most dislike me because of who I am. I can be quick to judge, I am impatient, and I have a temper.

Even when people like me, they still treat me differently sometimes because of who I am. But you, you are different. You never cared who I was, you never changed the way you acted around me, you always remained you, even when everyone around you was being strange.

Like when I first started here and you gave me my orientation, you treated me like you would every apprentice. Even when we were in the Janus Thickey ward. I can't even walk through that area of the hospital without the staff having minor aneurysms

You have never done anything to make me suspect you are anything less than a solid bloke. And I'm sorry I blew up at you the other night. You did nothing wrong, I just transferred my own problems and self esteem onto you, and that included an old boyfriend of mine who used me for my magical abilities and not much else. I am someone who has been used a lot and it's sometimes hard for me to realise when it is happening.

You deserve a much better friend than me Theo, but you are my friend and I hope you can forgive me." She was covered in a cold sweat and her stomach was in knots, she felt slightly nauseous and extremely vulnerable. It made her twitch uncomfortably.

"Can I say something without you interrupting?" He asked evenly, looking at her intently.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Your parents were two horrible, I'd even say inhuman, monsters." She flinched, paling and sunk lower into her seat, her nausea tripling in it's intensity.

"They did awful things and ruined a lot of lives. They deserve to be in prison, I don't believe in the death penalty but if we had it, I'd say they are the only ones who should be eligible."

Her face was burning in shame now as she lowered her head.

"You Cassiopeia are not your parents." He ducked his head trying to catch her eye as he said this. Unable to he leant over the table to gently push her face up to meet his.

"You are your own person. Someone I think is funny, incredibly clever, selfless, empathetic, and above all else, kind. I see the way you treat people, even those who don't like you. And the way you are around patients. There was no question of accepting your apology, of course I do. You don't even need to explain yourself because I know you and I know you didn't mean it.

You are very hard on yourself, I've never met anyone who is as self critical as you, and that includes me. If you could just accept that you are capable of so much more than destruction then you could be a cracking healer. You just need to get out of your own way."

"I will… work on that. Thank you Theo for being my friend," she said quietly, coughing slightly and looking around the cafe they were in for a distraction.

"In other news, I found out why Lionel has been acting so strange and why he kept you off that cursed case," the boy was grinning now, his eyes sparkling.

Cassiopeia stared at him with renewed interest, her curiosity winning over her mortification.

"Of course I'm not going to tell you. But it's good. You'll be pleased. And you'll get your answer in a few days. Just before the Christmas craziness."

"You are unbelievable Ashmole." She groaned.

"Yes. And we will be late if we don't leave soon," he said with a wink.

Xxx

"You must be wondering why I asked you here today miss Tonks." Lionel said formally, shuffling some paperwork on his desk to look busy.

"As you know I've had you working on various independent projects of my own creation down in the research lab for several months, much to your frustration I am sure."

He coughed, still not meeting her eyes as he handed her a stack of papers, and Cassiopeia's eyes widened in horror. Notice of Apprenticeship expiration.

"You're firing me?" She asked hoarsely, feeling a bit faint.

"Not quite. We are choosing to terminate your apprenticeship early because well, best you read this yourself." He handed her a sealed envelope from the Ministry Examination Board, the government body that oversaw the apprenticeship programmes around the country.

She swallowed nervously, feeling sick as she turned the letter over and ripped it open with slightly shaking hands.

We are pleased to inform you that you have successfully finished all the necessary requirements of your curse breaker apprenticeship.

"I—Wut?" She asked dumbly, staring at the letter. "I didn't even start the required tests. Oh but you did—you tested me out of the programme? I had another year left," she said weakly, unable to stop to large grin from taking over her face.

"Yes well, myself and your supervisors at Gringotts agreed you would be much better help as a fully qualified curse breaker rather than an apprentice where our hands are tied in allocating work for you. This was a move motivated by purely selfish reasons on our parts. You will receive your termination paperwork from the bank later today.

And you were ready, wasting a year to formalise it seemed daft so I took matters into my own hands. Of course now you have a few big decisions to make now as to what you want to do, your estimated apprentice graduation date was announced to all those who might be interested in employing you and you should expect offer letters to be coming in the next few days. Here is the offer letters from St Mungos which I took the liberty of preparing," he said, handing her a few more forms.

She looked over the offers, "this one is only a two month contract," she said feeling confused. Did they not want her?

"That is to cover the upcoming holidays which is our busiest time. And is intended to give you some time to decide on a longer term course of action without a break in income. In fact I believe it is a raise from your government stipend," He said with a wink.

"I-I dont know what to say." she said numbly, staring at the mass of paperwork in front of her.

"Say you'll consider a longer term post here. You are not a healer, so it would be an on call basis and perhaps we could swing some research funding, get you a project to work on, maybe you could publish a few articles, who knows?" He said seriously, studying the girl in front of her.

"Thank you Mr Spavin," she said sincerely, standing up to shake the man's hand firmly, "I feel very fortunate that you were my examiner that day years ago. All of this, everything i've accomplished so far, has been because of you. You've been the best mentor I could have ever hoped for." she was uncomfortable as she tried to impress her gratitude to the man, unused to doing such a thing to anyone who wasn't family.

But then, outside of the Ted and Andromeda, nobody had a greater influence on her adult life than Mr Spavin did.

"Please, you are no longer my student, call me Lionel. You can thank me by dedicating the groundbreaking textbook you're bound to write to me. I will settle for the best curse breaking mentor in the wizarding world. Perhaps mention my good looks and sharp eye for talent." He smirked, returning her handshake.

"Go on, take the rest of the day off, go through your paperwork, and celebrate! Your apprenticeship is over, we'll organise a party of something for you here when you make your decisions."

She did just that, apparating to the Tonks household to celebrate with Ted and Andromeda, who took her out for lunch. She also called in to see her Aunt Narcissa who took her out for a girls night dinner to celebrate.

Owls came throughout the day, delivering more and more paperwork for places who were interested in her services, so many that she found the selection overwhelming. There were the usual places she expected, institutions such as Gringotts and St Mungos, but she was curious to see there were several shops in Knockturn Alley that were interested in hiring her on as a contractor, and a few private clients and small museums who wished her to curate and examine collections.

The most curious was a short letter from Amelia Bones, requesting her presence at the Ministry for a chat. There was no job offer, or details that the other letters had, but it piqued her interest enough. Ms Bones had expressed interest in her before, but something about the woman made Cassiopeia wary, she didn't know her motivations and that unnerved her. At least when Mr Spavin—Lionel— schemed, it was mostly for her benefit. She wasn't sure Ms Bones had the same care for her welfare than Lionel did if her reaction to the Lich incident was anything to go off.

But she would go, hear her out, and see what she had to say.

xxx

Amelia Bones sat in her office staring at the latest reports from her agents in the field, frowning in thought. She was totally distracted by the news and by the imminent arrival of the witch she was keen to recruit.

Cassiopeia Tonks was a unique case and would have to be handled with a very delicate hand.

She jumped a little at the knock on the door and snapped the file shut.

"Morning Miss Tonks. Have a seat, can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee? No? Before we proceed I just need you to fill out some paperwork." She said, passing a stack of papers over to the girl.

Cassiopeia was very much the same as she remembered, wary of her surroundings and inherently uncomfortable in the Department of Law Enforcement. It was expected and unfortunate, making her job difficult. The contract would make it even more so.

"If I speak about what I see or hear during this visit I will be stripped of my wand and imprisoned in Azkaban?" The girl balked, staring up at her. It was a shame the contracts were so forcefully worded, but breaking them amounted to treason so it was unavoidable.

She watched Cassiopeia as the girl examined the parchment closely, pulling the paper towards her face as she searched. "Is this contract cursed?" She asked, alarm now growing on her face as she dropped the paper as if burned.

Amelia sighed, wishing there was a way to start this conversation on a good note for the suspicious girl. These formalities were damaging her pitch.

"Yes. It is how we monitor if the agreement has been broken. I understand it may seem like an extreme measure but I think you will find what I have to say worth the risk and your attention. I can promise that in fact." She said honestly, trying to be as open as she could without giving anything of substance away.

Cassiopeia eyed Amelia suspiciously and she did her best to put on her most honest and open face, careful to keep her body language open and inviting to reassure the girl of her intentions. She needed Cassiopeia to trust her, at least initially, to get her through the door.

The girl turned the contract, pulling out her wand and examining the parchment closely, no doubt examining the magic in the parchment. Ms Bones had no idea what the tests she ran told her or what she discerned from the parchment, but after some thought the girl very reluctantly grabbed the quill and hovered over the signature line.

"This only covers this meeting correct? And I can walk away whenever I want?" She asked.

"I swear neither I nor anyone in this building will stop you from leaving whenever you wish. That contract pertains to this meeting between us today, and so long as you keep our secrets, then you are free to do as you please." She said honestly. It was important to not lie to the girl, it would go a long way to gain her trust.

Her first success of the morning came as Cassiopeia signed her name on the contract, sealing the deal.

"Thank you Miss Tonks. I think you will find this meeting interesting . If you would follow me, I'd like to take this discussion somewhere a bit more private," she said sincerely, beckoning the girl over to her bookshelf against a wall.

With a few seemingly random taps the bookshelf shimmered, becoming insubstantial and iridescent, revealing a hidden doorway in her office. She smirked at the startled girl before taking a step through the shimmering bookshelf.

Cassiopeia followed slowly, her eyes narrowed, her shoulders hunched and her hands shoved deep into her pockets. She was no doubt clutching her wand she figured, feeling highly insecure in the whole situation. She wasn't surprised and it was a sign she had a ways to go yet to recruit this girl.

She led Cassiopeia down a long corridor lined with old portraits and occasionally other doorways into the offices of a few selectively placed government officials.

Finally she came to her destination, the Execrable Library. She figured this would be the ideal location to have this conversation, the place that would capture her imagination the most. It was a calculated risk, understanding the girl might find the environment too distracting but hoping she was skilled enough to resist the tangent that seemed obvious in such a library.

"Please, have a seat," she gestured, pulling out a chair at a small table near the library shelves.

"You told me once that you became a curse breaker because you wanted to help people. I trust that now you are fully qualified, that this hasn't changed?" The girl shook her head slowly, eyeing Ms Bones suspiciously before looking around at the room.

"I want to offer you an opportunity to do just that, to help people."

"But the curse breakers who work with the Aurors have to be internally trained and apprenticed." She said slowly, not quite understanding how she would fit into the organisation.

Ms Bones gave her a tight smile, it was natural for the girl to think she was recruiting on behalf of them. She wouldn't be doing her job correctly if the girl had any idea which attention she had captured in the Ministry.

"You are correct, the Auror organisation has its own standards and rules which can be problematic in situations such as this because of their inflexibility.

I am offering you this position on behalf of another department—the Ministry Intelligence Service."

"I've never heard of that programme." Cassiopeia said, nervously clenching and unclenching her hands.

"You wouldn't of. We succeed when the world has no idea we exist or that there was any danger to their lives and routine.

You see Cassiopeia, there are many dark witches and wizards out there who wish to harm people, who want to disrupt our way of life, our treaties, and the harmony at which we exist in the muggle world. These threats are identified and their damage and impact is mitigated by our highly trained agents, all to the blissful ignorance of the British wizarding public. We -I- want you to work with this group of agents, as a consultant of sorts. Similar to the work you did with that Lich months ago."

Amelia had rehearsed the pitch, she had studied the girl's files, read her psychological profile that was put together based on her public actions, she had tailored her offer, her exact wording, to keep her interested.

"Just what are you offering Ms Bones? Surely situations that call for my expertise, or that threaten the wizarding world is not a full time job."

She was suspicious, it was expected of course. Amelia has never met anyone who had no involvement in this department who was as careful and suspicious as Cassiopeia Tonks.

"You are correct again. Though more frequent than we like, these situations on a whole are rare. I hear Lionel is searching for research funding to keep you as a fellow of the hospital. We can help with that, and I think you will find our proposed topic and resources rather attractive." This was her chance to seal the deal. She was under a lot of pressure to secure Miss Tonks' services— especially in light of their current situation. Enticing the girl with the promise of a juicy research topic, the opportunity to help people, resources beyond any she had ever come in contact with was her way to persuade Cassiopeia.

She flicked open a file and slid it over. It was the terms of employment.

Cassiopeia took her time reading through it, her eyes darting around the room as she processed. Amelia knee the very moment she reached the juiciest part, the condition that she was fairly confident would win the girl totally.

"The ministry doesn't destroyed confiscated books on dark magic?" She was looking around the room they were in now very closely.

"All official records indicate we do. Unofficially we recognise the value in these works, distasteful as they are. For a little over a century we've been collecting the darkest and most dangerous materials ever found and brought them here. They are safe from the public and we have gained a valuable resource. We want you to build magic from curses. Useful magic- healing, tracking, protections, anything you can think of." She leaned forward across the table, looked the girl in the eye, and tried to impress upon her the endless possibilities.

She looked both interested and horrified. "Nothing good can come from curses." She said slowly, reciting the textbook sentence she was taught to say.

"Oh rubbish. You know that, I know that, this department knows that. Magic is magic, and if we can create something good from evil then it goes a long way to balance the bad." She waved her concern away. The Aurors were black and white like that, but the Ministry Intelligence Service knew the world existed in greys.

"You are going to give me—with my background— unfettered access to what is probably the largest collection of dark magic tomes in the world."

She anticipated disbelief. She had expected it earlier, but she understood her concerns.

"We know you are not your parents Miss Tonks. We've been watching you," She inwardly cursed as she saw the girls eyes narrow. Brilliant, she tipped her hand there but perhaps there was a way to save it.

"Who is we? And how long have you been watching me?" Her voice was sharp, and Amelia raised her hands slightly in an attempt to calm her down. Paranoia. It was underlined several times in her file. She moved through the world as if someone were chasing her.

"All of our potential recruits go through a background check before we extend an offer. I assure you it was nothing invasive.

And this offer is time sensitive. Ideally we would give you some time to mull things over, perhaps tour our facilities but we have something of a situation on the continent." Distraction. That was a way to mitigate the girls apprehension.

"A situation? Like the Lich incident?" She asked, her curiosity winning narrowly over her paranoia. Ms Bones did notice the unusual attention she paid to the files sitting under her hand, correctly guessing one of the files was her own.

"Before we proceed, I must remind you of the contract you signed." she warned, ideally she would've signed the deal with the girl, she wanted to tell her as a new employee but given her earlier slip up, this was the only way.

Cassiopeia paused, swallowly thickly as she thought about the document she signed. It was clear the girl was uncomfortable about the situation, mainly the consequences of breaking such a contract. A lifetime in Azkaban was terrifying to most, but she suspected for this particular child, the possibliity was a living nightmare.

"I remember." she said softly, looking Ms Bones in the eye with a suprising ferocity. "Tell me the situation and how I can help."

Good.

Above all else, Cassiopeia Tonks put the needs of those in danger above her own. She had suspected as much, but it was reassuring to see it. She was a good as hers.

"35 people are dead after two incidents. 29 of them were muggles, 6 were wizards-a family. All killed by a cursed object of an unknown prvenance." she flicked open another file and pushed it across the table to the curious girl, her tone going flat as she pushed the emotion away to handle just the facts.

"We missed the first two instances. The first was a field of cows, 50 in total all perishing suddenly. We didn't notice until recently, cattle death not appearing on our normal radars. It was strange certainly but perhaps explained by a new animal disease. That is what the muggles concluded in their investigations.

In the second case a cursed object placed into a household that unleashed the same type of disease like symptoms. We assumed natural causes, it was only after the larger incident did we reassess our findings.

Our attention was drawn at the sudden and mysterious death of every muggle in a small village, no more than a handful of cottages in a very tight knit farming community in the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, near its south western border. They all suffered symptoms of the same disease that killed the wizarding family, and upon closer examination we found a curious object, something that was out of place in the village, that matched an object in the wizarding household." She passed over a picture of a blue and black orb, no larger than a billiard ball, covered in tightly scrawled runes and significantly cracked.

"We later found a nearly identical object in the field with the deceased cattle."

"A one shot." She hear Cassiopeia murmur as she looked through the images.

"A one shot?" It was a phrase Amelia was unfamiliar with.

"A curse that is only meant to be deployed once. A disposable container for the magic. It's a simple and crude way to deploy the magic, but highly effective for short lived, powerful bursts of energy. The muggles have a weapon, called a grenade, that is very similar in principle."

Amelia had to contain the smirk that was growing as she saw the girls eyes sharpen on the images, and the magical grenade, her mind swirling and her heart invested in those who already lost their lives. It was a tragedy, one committed by a witch or wizard who was just warming up, but the tragedy ensured the ministry recruited the most highly sought after free agent curse breaker. Amelia learned during the first war to focus on the positives in a grim situation.

"Agree to our terms of employment and we can have you on the next portkey to site tomorrow morning. All of our preliminary reports has suggested that this perpetrator is not going to stop Miss Tonks, and we could do with your input."

She watched as Cassiopeia chewed her lip in thought, frowning at the folder. To Amelia it was a foregone conclusion. She had the girl exactly where she wanted her, distracted by a tragedy and eager to help- but the longer the pause went, the more uncertain she felt about her conclusions.

"One year," she said finally, looking up from the contract. "This has no expiry date. I will do this for one year and then re-assess whether I want to continue with this department. Obviously whatever I do in that one year would be covered by that cursed contract. And i'd like to be placed officially at the hospital as a research fellow with full funding."

She was making direct eye contact once more, clearly not as distracted Amelia thought she was.

The quaffle was in her hands and she thought carefully through her options. She could be bluffing, surely she would sign on to anything if she believed she was going to help someone. She could bet that the girl couldn't resist helping on this case.

But, she wasn't here to swindle the girl or force her into anything she didn't want to do. She genuinely believed that Cassiopeia would have a lasting legacy in her field if she was given the chance, and Amelia wanted to provide her with opportunities to do such a thing.

"One year Miss Tonks, and research funding provided you work within our research interests."

"We can discuss the details of the topic later. But Ms Bones, you have yourself a curse breaker." She held out her hand and Amelia allowed herself a small smirk as she returned the gesture.

She has secured a valuable asset for this department, it was the first step in an ambitious plan the management had regarding this girls future.

"The port key will leave at exactly 6:00 am tomorrow morning. Be at my office five minutes before departure."

Xxx

a/n so this chapter took so long partially because of a new job and mostly because i rewrote it completely four times.

what does everyone think about slightly shady ministry departments? I am of the opinion all governments have shady parts of them that are unsavoury. I see the Aurors as a very black and white organisation— there is good and evil, for those with a strong moral compass and very little philosophical leanings. The Ministry Intelligence Service is born out of pure pragmatism. Why destroy something that could be useful because we personally find it distasteful. When someone threatens the security of the wizarding world why worry the citizens when you can neutralise the threat quietly. Ms Bones walks a fine line between what is legally right, morally right, and best for the country and it's security.


	7. Chapter 7: The Rune Stone

Cassiopeia felt sick as she looked around the empty village searching for any remnants of the magic that ended the lives of the muggles who lived there.

The curse had struck suddenly, and did its work quickly. Lunches were out on tables, tea was half drunk, and a brightly coloured children's board games were half played on the ground, never to be finished.

The curse left no trace that she could find. Whatever it was did not appear to have lasting power. The village was haunted but no longer cursed.

"Have you found anything useful yet?" Her companion moaned from the doorway, looking bored "You've been here for hours and we've got nowhere 'ave we?"

She glared at the man. Caecilius Jovius was a conventionally handsome man, with a certain rugged charm. He carried himself with confidence and an air of virility she was guessed granted him all sorts of access to places he shouldn't be.

He also had enough of a brain to see when his false charm would not be successful in a given situation. Seeing Cassiopeia rebuff his good natured banter and his not so subtle attempts at seduction, he dropped his act and showed her his more genuine face.

He was crass, selfish, and violence oozed out of his very being. He was a mercenary, motivated by greed and operated in the darkest parts of the grey area the Ministry department dealt with. She wondered what crimes he might have committed in his time, and how someone who had seemed as upstanding as Amelia Bones could work with a man like this. The man would be more at home with the Death Eaters than the Aurors.

But then she wasn't so certain she really understood the type of woman Amelia Bones actually was. There were more pressing things for her to think about.

Namely what type of curse was this person deploying and how could she break it.

The sites and the objects were completely devoid of magic. Any magic. Any remnants of magic. That wasn't so surprising in a muggle village but in the wizarding household it was very odd.

There was magic everywhere in wizarding households. In the appliances, in the belongings, and in the very fabric of the buildings. But the fire went out, pictures and portraits stopped moving, and the house was eerie in its inactivity. It was suspicious and she wondered what sort of magic could do this.

She had two thoughts about it thus far, and it was down to how she understood the nature of magic. There were deeply theoretical and philosophical schools of thought about magical nature and activity, but Cassiopeia preferred her simple understanding. To her was magic like electricity. Naturally existing in the world and can be created under certain circumstances. Each charmed object was like an electronic, and if you channelled too much electricity through an electrical port it would blow and stop working. She observed a similar behaviour in spells, with enough focussed raw power on a certain spell element, it would break-generally explosively.

But these objects showed no evidence of such a reaction.

The objects were made in a very primitive way, with runes literally weaved together elegantly, drawn onto the surface and powered externally. It was the most difficult way to create magic, requiring a vast amount of theoretical knowledge and understanding, cutting out all of the emotion and instinctual grasp of magic all witches and wizards had.

Magic was tied up in emotions and intents, reacting to the casters feelings, personality, and even the individual wands components. This magic was devoid of that.

This magic seemed to pull all the energy around it in to serve its purpose. It was hungry, draining every source of magic dry, perhaps explaining why there was no trace of magic in the wizarding household.

Such a thing was possible in theory. But rarely, if ever, done.

"I think I've seen all I need to see here." She finally said reluctantly to her companion who sighed happily, before departing back to the inn they were staying at.

She was staying in the outskirts of one of the larger cities in the southwest of the country. It was a beautiful place, near a large mountain range and with picturesque bridges crossing a powerful river. But it was a place with an uneasy quiet, surprisingly calm as civil war raged on in the country and amongst its neighbors and ethnic tensions were at a high. For now all was peaceful in this region, but everyone knew that peace was no guarantee. The odd bullet hole in the surrounding walls and a heavily muggle military presence helped reassert that.

Despite the uncomfortable air, Cassiopeia found she worked better in the small pub that was next to the inn, where she brought her notes and charmed them so the local muggles would only see maths equations instead of magical deconstructions.

So engrossed in her work she was absolutely shocked when an older woman sat down across from her with a broad smile.

She was even more surprised when the woman leaned over and said, "Fancy seeing another witch aroun' 'ere then!" In a bright West Country accent.

"I'm sorry?" Cassiopeia said, hoping she misheard woman

"Oh come off it love, I may not understand them notes there but I can recognise a rune when I see one. Also yer wand is just sticking owta yer pocket there."

Cassiopeia's hands went around her wand, her eyes flicking around the room suspiciously as she pushed it deeper into her pocket.

"Bertha Jorkins, work at the ministry." The woman held her hand out.

"Cassiopeia, I work at St Mungos," she said slowly, still looking around.

"What brings you teh these parts of the world then Cassiopeia?" The woman continued, either oblivious or uncaring to the woman's discomfort.

"Er, research holiday mainly." She said, looking around again to see if any of the muggles were listening.

"Oo arr- sounds lovely. I'm off south meself, on a bit o' a holiday down ter the Adriatic. Going'ta long way."

"Very nice." She said stiffly, hoping she would take a hint and leave her alone.

She did not take the hint. Two days she had to put up with Bertha Jorkins, who she was later to find out was both extremely chatty and very nosy. She asked invasive questions about Cassiopeia, her job, whether she had a boyfriend or girlfriend, her work at the hospital, where she lived. She also learned a great deal about Bertha and all of her co workers. She worked in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, quite closely with Ludo Bagman who was apparently famous. She had a brilliant assistant who always kept her on track as she could sometimes be forgetful and decided to take a holiday to lesser travelled parts for some adventure.

For all of her prattle and gossip, Bertha was able to give her one bit of useful information. Namely, she had come across some of those runes on a flyer in a nearby city during her travels. It was an advert for a museum exhibit and she went thinking it was a magical exhibit but it turned out to be a rather disappointing muggle affair.

There were a few runes that confounded Cassiopeia. They were similar to the ones she knew and yet somehow just a little off. They had no power intrinsic to them, and their presence confounded her. If they weren't doing anything, then why add them to the complicated spell work? Why risk an unknown? There had to be a reason. She had no luck so far finding parallels with the ministry resources.

She was stumped.

But perhaps the annoying ministry worker was a herald in disguise. Or perhaps Cassiopeia was desperate for a breakthrough.

Either way, it wouldn't hurt to check out the disappointing exhibit.

Xxxx

Finding this mysterious exhibit was more difficult than she imagined. It seemed that not only was Bertha Jorkins a nosy gossip, she also had terrible memory.

It was only by pure luck she found the place after seeing a ripped and crumpled advert stuck under a bin. It was in a small room just off the foyer of a muggle university building.

The exhibit was text heavy, thankfully translated into English as well as the local Cyrillic dialect, and occupied just the corner of what looked like a larger archaeological exhibit about the area.

She pulled out her notebook eagerly as she spotted a few interesting pictographs, similar in form to the runes on her mysterious objects. It was in depth research into globalisation in the early medieval period, and how the city was a crossroads for different languages, cultures, and religions.

The author believed these marking represented a unique strain of polytheistic religion that believed heavily in magic and the runes ability to translate and transmit that power.

It was fascinating in its interpretations and reasonings. It also appeared some wizards were a little fast and loose with their knowledge and left behind just enough written evidence for the muggles to pass on.

"Dobro jutro!" Called a cheery voice from behind her. "Dobrodošli" He gestured widely around the room.

"Zdravo," she replied uncertainly, snapping her notebook shut — "Oprostite...sorry I don't speak Serbian very well." She apologised, stumbling over the phrases she had learned in the last few days.

"Ahh-British," the man said, his grin widening, "I just say good morning, can I help you? But I see we will speak in English. Welcome! Do you have questions about my exhibit?"

He was a younger man, scrawny in his professorial sweater and blazer outfit. He had a very square face, his nose Romanesque ending in a sharp point, a feature that emphasised his pointed chin. He had shaggy hair and very sharp blue grey eyes that watched her curiously.

"This is your work?" She asked, gesturing towards the display. "It's brilliant."

"Hvala—thank you. It has been many years in the making. I see you have taken many notes, this is a topic that interests you?"

"Oh yes. My name is Mildred Smith and I'm writing my doctoral thesis on belief systems and epigraphic inscriptions—I've been working a lot with runes but I have never seen anything quite like this." She said, falling into her cover story smoothly

"How interesting! I am Dr Luka Ilić- I lecture here at the university in archaeology. Your topic sounds very exciting. What university is this?" He asked, grinning widely in surprised pleasure.

"Oh uh UCL—that is University College London. " she stumbled a little in her lie, hoping he did not know anyone there.

"I have been to London only once, as a child. I have many fond memories. Please if you have time, tell me about your research."

And so Cassiopeia navigated a delicate balance as she spoke to the muggle about her research with runes. Muggles has far fewer runic inscriptions surviving in their world, and the runes that did survive served a more mundane purpose-namely as monuments to fallen leaders, written treaties, or even graffiti. There were a few examples of magical runes leaking into the muggle world, but direct evidence was hard to come by.

They moved from the exhibit first to his office—a very small and cramped space. When the day turned into early evening, the two found themselves locked in deep conversation still.

"Please, I am finding your company very stimulating. Would you like to have some beers perhaps? I live very near by and I think I have some texts you would find very interesting."

Cassiopeia paused for a moment, wondering if she had sent out some mixed signals accidentally. But then, he wasn't bad looking, perhaps not the usual stereotype of handsome, but she did find him attractive. It was his brain she figured, he was a very clever man who was deeply passionate about his research and the pursuit of knowledge.

He was also a smaller man, and a muggle. If- and it was a very distant if- he tried to harm her she was confident she could fight him off. And if-hopefully not as distant of an if— he made a move on her, well she wouldn't be opposed to that.

And so she found herself following the archaeology professor into the more residential area of the city, wondering at her fortuitous turn of events. Namely she thanked Merlin that Bertha Jorkins saw fit to interrupt her in the pub those days ago. She had cursed the woman's name for days but she had come through with some information.

Conversation flowed between the pair throughout the night, each moving closer to each other as if drawn by a different sort of magic.

"I must say I am entranced by you Miss Smith." The professor said, leaning forward slightly.

Cassiopeia smirked, pleased that her more intentional signals had been received.

"I do not think there has ever been a time where I could talk so freely about my research. And to such a receptive audience, it is remarkable you found my humble exhibit accidentally. Fate even." He continued, his voice lowering and his eyes flicking between her eyes and her lips.

She closed the distance between then, twining her fingers through his hair— something the researcher seemed to approve of greatly. It wasn't long until the pair found themselves stumbling up to his bedroom, divesting their clothes along the way.

Cassiopeia woke up early the next morning feeling delightfully sore and finding a keen pair of grey eyes watching her.

"Dobro Jutro Miss Smith." He said softly, smiling.

"Good morning yourself Luka." She responded, stretching languidly.

His eyes followed her eagerly, lingering on her tattoos. "Such fantastic creatures. Your creation?" He paused at a thestral on her side. "No, a friends conception." She said easily.

He hummed. "Your friend has great imagination. And here— some runes I see." He traced the patterns on her skin and she could see his mind racing.

"Such curious form—" he mused lowly, getting lost in his own thoughts

Cassiopeia flushed, realising her tattoos depicted actual magical runes, not the strange powerless ones she was looking into. Most muggles would never notice—but Luka was an expert.

"How about some breakfast?" She asked, grabbing his attention away from her tattoos.

His face brightened as he grin. "Da, breakfast. Take your time getting ready. I will have food for us downstairs." With a last kiss he was pushing himself out of bed and humming as he went downstairs.

Cassiopeia dressed and freshened up the best she could, she couldn't find her overcoat which was where her wand was. But then they had been a little hasty the previous night. It was probably downstairs.

Her stomach growled at the smells wafting up from down stairs.

"Come, come—sit,sit." Luka insisted pushing her into a chair and putting a large plate in front of her.

They talked about everything and nothing and when she finally could no longer eat anymore, Luka leaned forward, looking very serious.

"Please tell me more about your research. I understand you may not have pictures of these inscriptions you study, but do you know their form? Can you sketch them?" He asked eagerly.

Thus far Cassiopeia had been sufficiently vague about her own research, steering the conversation away from her specifics and into his general topics. She had worried about accidentally breaking the statute of secrecy or tipping her hand. But what was the harm in getting his opinion on runes that had no power or purpose? The ones that she found the most puzzling?

So she sketched a few out, frowning as she looked at them. They were odd—off somehow. If she could figure out how they were strange-she felt she could figure out the whole case.

"Ah—yes I have seen these before." He mused, rubbing his chin and peering at her thoughtfully.

"Where is this example from?" He asked.

Her frown deepened, she didn't have a good answer. "In the margins of a book I found in the old uni library. I found them curious and have been looking ever since.

"Interesting," He said, leaning over to his desk to rummage through one of his drawers.

"I am quite familiar with some of these— here. Let me show you." He reached over to a desk and pulled a small object made of stone out. Cassiopeia found his wiry muscles stretching a touch too distracting so she was very surprised when he tossed the object to her.

Instinctively she grabbed the object out of the air.

Pain.

It started in her hand and travelled up her arm- her stomach dropped as she stumbled from her chair to the ground. Her muscles clenched as what felt like an electrical current arced through her body- only this was different- if felt like it stone was sucking the energy directly out of her body. She felt sick, and weak as she clutched the stone, her muscles convulsing around it- unable to drop the object.

She was on the verge of passing out when she felt the professor lean down and pluck the stone out of her fingers.

"It seems a shame to kill someone as lovely as you." He murmured- his voice cold as he knelt by her.

She felt like a husk- an exhaustion unlike anything she has ever felt before. She was tired to her very bones, her eyes fluttering in pain.

And burning. Her bracelet- often cold silver again her wrist was white hot and searing into arm. She managed to flip herself onto her stomach, what felt like a gargantuan task, desperately looking for her overcoat and her wand that was contained within.

The Dr watched her in amusement for a few minutes, enjoying her struggle as she tried to crawl against the floor.

"Are we looking for this?" He held up her wand as he delicately twirled it around his fingers.

Cassiopeia slumped in defeat, seeing her only hope in the hands of a muggle. "What—" She croaked before closing her eyes and taking a few deep, panting breaths. Her head was swimming as her body screamed in protest.

She felt like she was dying. She wondered if she was dying.

"Your kind are arrogant. Over reliant on a stick of wood. It's pathetic." She watched in horror as he tested the woods strength between his hands, bending it just so until the sound of little cracks echoed through the room.

"So powerful and yet so delicate." He flexed the wood further, enjoying the sounds of the wood splintering before he finally snapped the whole object in half. "Useless now." He threw the broken piece of wood down next to her prone form.

She felt cold as she saw her ruined wand, tears running down her face as her most treasured object lay lifeless next to her face. She felt the gaping hole of loss and horror consuming her form, building on the exhaustion. It was all she could do to curl herself into the foetal position, grasping at the broken symbol of her power and weep.

She didn't know how long she was on the ground of his small house, halfway between his kitchen and living room but he eventually took pity on her and carried back upstairs to his room.

He laid her gently on his bed and removed her shirt so she was topless, exposed to his hungry gaze.

"So beautiful," he sighed, once more tracing her tattoos. "And deadly." His voice hardened and he tweaked her nipple painfully before dropping the small stone on her sternum.

Her back arched slightly as she felt the magic activate once more- hungrily draining her of all of her energy.

"Arrogance will be your downfall. Your kind will be extinct if I have my way. What is your real name anyway?" He asked, busying himself with his closet— getting ready for his day.

"Cassiopeia." She gasped, her hands twitching as she tried to find the energy to pull the stone off of her chest.

"What—" She wheezed, struggling to speak.

He turned to her and smirked,"Do you like my creations Cassiopeia? I spent years researching them in my parents library. With the right arrangements anyone can create magic, all they need is a little spark. What you are feeling is my way of obtaining that spark. You are now nothing more than a beautiful power source." He eyed her critically as she writhed beneath his trinket.

"A powerful one at that. This stone killed my parents in under 5 minutes— drained them totally of any energy. They were mediocre wizards. But you— I am conflicted whether I should drain you totally. It would be such a waste of that brain. And body. Perhaps I will keep you for a while. Let you see the extinction I will bring.

Perhaps you will be the last witch in the world. Under my power, my control. Da, that sounds nice." Gone was the kind professor and in his place was a cold lunatic.

He seemed to know his creation well because he pulled it off of her just as her vision was beginning to blacken again.

"Squib." She croaked, making some sense of his ramblings. He wasn't just some muggle, he was a squib.

A new pain blossomed on the side of her face as he slapped her hard, his face twisted in cold rage. "Ne!" He spat. "Squib is a dirty word, an insult to my kind. We are the real pure ones, we are the few who can walk both worlds. I have shown squibs can have power, that we should be feared. No longer will we bow to wizards and hide in shame because no longer will wizards exist."

She didn't know his story but she could guess. Squibs brought great shame to their families. It was the greatest embarrassment and a sign of impure blood. Squibs never quite fit into the muggle world and were treated as third class citizens in the magical world. Most were disowned and abandoned. Luka's family apparently kept him but let him know the shame he brought on their name.

"Muggles. You kill muggles." She wheezed, find it easier to talk now that the damned stone was off her chest.

He scoffed, "Village folk. They have no importance. Not even Serbs." He waved away the concern. "Their lives have meaning now, testing my plan— sacrifices for the new future." He ran his hands through his hair, eyeing the stone greedily.

"And you— perhaps you can give me enough power to fuel my creation. I will start first with those filthy Swiss wizards— in the heart of the international confederation."

He rummaged around his drawers while Cassiopeia focused on moving. She was weak but she had to try, she had to get out of there, she had to alert the authorities.

"Ah," he sighed, apparently finding whatever he was looking for.

Duct tape.

"I was not expecting your lovely company so I find myself a little unprepared. This crude method will have to do. I will come back with better supplies tonight." He said apologetically.

"You're leaving?" She wheezed.

"Da. I have a job you know." He winked

He taped her hands and feet together before taping them to his bed posts, leaving her stretched out uncomfortably. And to finish he placed the last piece over her mouth carefully- ensuring it was pressed down adequately.

"Rest dušo, regain your strength. I will be back before you know it." He said gently, smiling down at her fondly, his eyes running the length of her body in appreciation.

Cassiopeia cried when he left, wondering how she had gotten into this situation. She was powerless and wandless, tied to the bed of the very man she had been chasing.

She took his advice and rested, hoping she could regain strength enough to break her bounds.

She swam in and out of consciousness throughout the day, meditating on her strength and on her power. It was growing dark when she felt strong enough to try, twisting herself every which way- trying to rip the tape along its threads.

She grew more desperate in her attempts when she heard Luka return, humming an upbeat tune downstairs.

And she slumped in defeat as he delicately put his stone artefact on her chest, draining her once more of energy. While she panted in pain he took the opportunity to undo her taped cuffs and replaced them with plastic zip tie handcuffs. He left her feet unbound and carefully removed the tape around her mouth—cooing gently as if he felt her pain.

Cassiopeia tried to fight him, tried to seize the opportunity to run, to escape. But every scrap of strength she gathered was sucked away hungrily by his stone.

He left her like that, immobilised in his bed by the strange magic he managed to wield as he went to prepare dinner.

She groaned when he finally took the stone away and reluctantly cooperated with him as he tried to haul her out of bed and down the stairs.

He left her top uncovered and his eyes feasted on her hungrily as she tried to eat dinner with her hands cuffed and with her limbs feeling like they weighed a ton.

"You are strong," he remarked, watching her attempt to eat.

"Srce, let me help," he moved to sit next to her, wrapping one arm around her middle, pulling her into his side as his other hand went to the utensils.

Cassiopeia resisted him at first out of pride and stubbornness. But hunger and exhaustion won in the end and she relaxed into him and let him feed her. She needed to preserve her strength if she wanted to survive.

When her plate was empty he hummed happily, pulling her further into his lap, wrapping both arms around her as he placed hot, open mouth kisses down her neck and to her shoulder.

She closed her eyes and grit her teeth, trying to build her strength to fight. But she was empty. A limp doll in his hands.

He stopped thankfully and helped her back upstairs and back to bed. He left her hands bound and rebound her feet but left her attached to the headboard.

Instead he curled up beside her, his hands tracing patterns on her smooth skin as he rambled on about his work and plans.

He had created the objects by carefully studying the very fabric of magic, and learning how to harness its essence and direct it using the ancient symbols. All he needed was a magical spark, something to kickstart the process. So he had made an artefact that captured and store magical energy, a battery.

He talked most the evening, only pausing to place kisses against her skin, oblivious or uncaring about her obvious discomfort. He was stricken by her, he wanted her more than anyone else he had ever met. She understood him, his research. Perhaps he could find a way to make her like him, born into a world of magic but unable to wield it. She shivered in fear, wondering if such a thing was even possible and she sighed in relief when he finally drifted off to sleep.

Cassiopeia meditated once more on regaining her strength. She closed her eyes and controlled her breathing, trying to find her magical energy.

She wept when he placed the stone on her again, just for a short period in the morning, the pain becoming familiar along with the burning in her wrist.

"Please, I have to go to the toilet," she gasped, desperate not to be tied down again, the beginning of a plan starting to fill her head.

He was cautious of her, making her leave the door open. And when she was finished he helped her up and back to the bed.

"Wait, Luka," her hands were still bound but her feet were not. She took a few steps closer to him, pressing herself against his front, nestling her face into his neck.

"Please, don't go just yet," She said lowly, nibbling in his ear. His arm went around her immediately, pulling her closer as he hummed in appreciation.

"Temptress." He swore before devouring her mouth.

She needed to get his trust, she needed to convince him she was on his side. She needed some freedom so she could free herself.

"Alas srce, I am needed at work. Tonight perhaps," he promised as he pushed her gently towards the bed.

"Please. You don't have to bind me. I understand your cause." She tried desperately.

He smirked at her, pushing her curls back and searching her face. "If only I could believe that šećeru, up to the bed."

She obeyed him allowing him to tie her wrists to the bedpost, this time in a upright position.

"If you behave perhaps we can speak more about your privileges."

"What can I do Luka? I feel empty of all magic, and I have no wand. I feel neutered." She retorted.

"We will discuss this later. I am late for work."

And so she waited. She meditated, trying to find her strength, she thought through several possibilities for escape. She needed him on her side. He would grow complacent if he thought her truly neutered.

When he let his guard down, she would strike.

But she had to be patient. She hadn't checked in with her handlers yesterday so they were aware she was missing. They would be looking but the chances of them finding her were slim. She would have to get to them.

But how? With no wand she couldn't apparate. She was stuck in a strange part of the city with no money and a deranged squib.

Deranged but brilliant.

She needed to destroy his notes. Nobody could know about the magic he had created, certainly not the ministry. The ability to drain someone of their magic, even temporarily was the ultimate torture— worse than any of the unforgivables. Luka could potentially rob people of their very identity, and he thought he could do it permanently.

Even temporarily was horrific enough. It was a power that could be used in interrogation, as a punishment. Better let someone die who they are than to rob them of their power. The thought was abhorrent.

And she believed he could do it. He could find a way.

That he could take her power, forever.

He held her for three days, each day she was allowed to stretch her legs when he returned home. And every evening he would busy himself in rune work, scribbling in paint around his front door frame. She didn't understand what he was making but she understood it did not bode well for her.

He even went so far as to unbind her hands so she could bathe and dress. She stayed docile during this time, gaining his trust, plotting.

It was the next week when he finally finished the project on his door.

"There. Now you can not leave. No wand to disappear with and if you step past the threshold you will be drained of everything until you die." She gulped as she processed the implications.

He had imprisoned her well.

But with the prison sealed tight he also began lifting her restrictions. She was free during the day when he was gone. And to gain his trust she willingly grasped the stone twice a day-focussing on the burning in her wrist to distract her from the shock of the stone.

She was growing used to the exhaustion, she was stronger because of it. She could work with it.

And something else. It was just a tickle in the back of her mind, the faintest perception, but she felt something curious in her mother's bracelet.

It always burned whenever she grasped Luka's draining stone, and it would remain hot until she regained some of her energy. But she noticed one day while she was meditating on her power that the bracelet pulsed. It was very faint, so faint she wasn't convinced she hadn't imagined it. But the more she focussed on it, the more she reached out the bracelet, the stronger the pulse became. It was like a heartbeat, out of rhythm with her own, but it centered her better than anything else ever had. It was a presence that she could reach out to, that she could feel, and it made her feel a lot less lonely and afraid. She pulled power from it-a trickle at first, but it grew the longer time ran on.

She passed the time reading his notes, memorising what she could and isolating what pages needed to be burned. She also hovered near the doorway, studying his runes. They were undeniably the same work that she had seen at all of the previous sites.

She was free to roam around the house, wearing his clothes that were slightly too large on her, and she was able to formulate a proper plan.

Luka had a reasonable collection of knives, some had magical inscriptions on them that she dared not touch, and others were plain pocket knives. She tested a few of them, looking for the perfect blade to handle ratio, and looking for the sharpest.

It took her days to find the right one, the perfect knife for the job.

She bided her time, allowing him to drain her magical energy every day, and she experimented pulling power from her bracelet, until she decided one morning that today would be the day.

She was either going to escape alive or die trying.

She meditated on her plan as he slept, her mind probing the strange pulsing from her mothers bracelet. It warmed to her thoughts, and she could feel the power in it gathering. She willed it down, trying to cut the connection to it or at least slow it. Luka was going to give her the stone when he awoke, and it would be no good for it to drain the bracelets power as well.

She struck when his back was turned, just after he took the stone from her hand, when she was usually the most weak.

But this time was different. She pulled from her bracelet, feeling it grow searing hot as power leached out of it into her being. She absorbed the magic hungrily and it washed over her body, heavy and heady, and very angry. She revelled in the feeling of the magic, so unlike hers and yet also strangely familiar. She felt powerful, more powerful than she had ever felt.

Her head was swimming with the newfound power as she clutched her knife, she could hear her mother in her ear, she could feel her mother's hands on her own, adjusting the grip just so.

' _Do it Cassie. Kill him_.' she could hear her mother's voice whispering, her breath cool against her cheek.

' _He hurt you, violated you, tried to take everything away from you. He deserves to be hurt. He deserves your revenge._ ' she should feel her mother's hand nudging her own, pushing her to raise the weapon.

' _Incapacitate him first, you remember the spot. Sever his tendons, make him beg Cassie, it will be so easy._ '

She found herself nodding along with her mother, anger and rage filling her being and the newfound power in her body fed off of it, wildly lashing out, hungry for blood.

Luka didn't see her coming.

She went for his shoulders first, digging the knife in looking to sever the tendons that lived there. He roared in pain and shock, spinning wildly and swinging to push her back.

She retreated, her head thumping with a rage that beat with the pulse from the bracelet, blood roared in her ears. She re-adjusted her hands on the knife, now slick with blood.

She struck out once more, ducking under his arms and slicing deeply into his hamstring, severing the muscles and tendons there.

Luka collapsed with an agonised grunt, frantically reaching for the stone that was between them on the ground. His only weapon.

He never got the chance to reach it.

She was efficient in her work, her head swimming, her heart pounding, and her mothers pleased laughter bouncing around her skull. She was a woman possessed, basking in her rage and fear, pulling strength from the hallucination of her mother. Soaking up the pride of the deranged woman.

Luka was immobilised, bleeding on the floor and unable to use any of his major muscle groups to move. She stopped just short of killing him, rebelling for the first time against the voice in her head urging her to.

She dropped the knife and stumbled back into a wall, sliding down it as she took in the bloody scene.

Luka had been screaming under her attack, but his voice had grown hoarse and he was falling in and out of consciousness as shock ruled his system. He could still die yet.

' _Finish him Cassie. He hurt you, he's killed others, he tried to kill you, he deserves it._ ' even now she could hear her mother crooning voice, seductively whispering into her ear.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, covering her ears with blood soaked hands. "No mother, I won't do it."

Her opposition did nothing to dissuade her hallucination, " _it would be so easy Cassie. If you kill him, he will never hurt anyone again. The secret dies with him. You know the place… just one little cut, and it would all be over._ "

She was right. If she let him live, even if the ministry took him, they could find out how he did it. They could replicate his weapons, drain witches and wizards of their power. He was too brilliant, he would understand the bargaining chip and would trade the knowledge for his life. And they would take that deal, his offer well worth the lives already lost in their eyes.

She had to kill him.

' _Yesss Cassie, you know what to do._ " her mother hissed in her head, her bloodlust pressing against her skull.

Her eyes fell to the stone that she had grown to fear and hate, lying harmlessly on the ground, just out of reach of Luka's grasping hands.

He had been draining her power for over a week, twice a day. She needed to destroy that stone, hide the evidence of what could be achieved.

For the first time since he snapped her wand she felt flush with power and confident that she could achieve anything. She focussed on that feeling, directly all of her energies towards the stone.

At first nothing happened, and just when she was about to give up, the stone twitched, before rolling slowly towards Luka's outstretched hands.

He grasped at it eagerly, hoping dearly the tide was turning in this fight as he struggled forward to press it against her person.

She was red in the face from her exertion, as she tried to push her will onto the stone.

And then finally, with a soft pop, the stone cracked, and all the energy that was contained within rushed out explosively.

She flinched away in shock and terror, spinning in place, willing herself to safety- reaching out to her destroyed wand as an afterthought, drawing strength from the familiar and destroyed wood.

It wasn't until she felt the pinching did she realise what she had done.

She had apparated to safety, feeling only a little singed from the explosive energy that erupted out of Luka's trinket.

She registered the shocked face of her Ministry contact, Caecilius before she collapsed on the ground, losing all of the strength she had felt in her final moments with Luka, her mother's voice growing fainter and fainter as she let the encroaching darkness finally take her.

xxx

"Come in." Nymphadora looked up from the case notes she was reviewing, smiling brightly when she saw who her visitor was. "Wotcher Moody! I thought you officially retired! Couldn't stay away then?" she asked smartly, smirking at her mentor.

He huffed, peering closely at the young girl. "Not here on business today. More of a personal errand."

"Oh yeah?" she asked, curious what personal errand would bring him to her.

"Seen your sister recently?" he asked lowly, his mad eye spinning around his head, looking for eavesdroppers.

"Cassiopeia? Nar, not recently. She's off on some research trip on the continent somewhere. Been gone for weeks. She is due back soon though, why?" She asked, feeling suddenly concerned for her sister's well being.

"I keep tabs on some inmates in Azkaban, 'specially after that business with Black, an' something has got her mother riled up. She's been calling out for her daughter the last few days, crying out in pain. I had my man write down her ramblings. It's probably nothing, she always did have a screw loose." he handed over a folder. "Thought i'd check with you just in case. Research trip eh?"

"Yeah-dusty libraries she said. Nothing dangerous." Dora felt cold as she accepted the transcript, flicking it open to read what her would be aunt was saying in prison.

"it's probably nothing, she's gone quiet now. But just so-thought you outta know." he shrugged, watching the girl closely as she frowned, worry blooming on her face.

"Yeah-yeah, i'll check on her. Thanks Moody." she said distractedly, already casting her mind to find a way to contact her sister. "Uh say Moody, mind not telling anyone else about this?" she asked, more as an afterthought.

"About what?" he smirked before letting himself out.

Nymphadora Tonks sat heavily on her office chair, reading through the transcript again. The crazed woman's initial ramblings were worrying enough, but it was her last words, before going quiet that concerned her the most.

 _"That's my girl."_

xxxxxxx

 _A/N Cassiopeia has fairly bad luck with smart men. And we can guess more about just what the bracelet is. Reviews are always loved!_


	8. Chapter 8: 1994

She woke up in an unfamiliar hospital room, her head pounding and her limbs feeling heavy.

"She's up." Someone growled next to her and she heard a flurry of movement.

Amelia Bones was the first face she saw, concern clouding her features.

"Cassiopeia, how do you feel?" She asked

Cassiopeia groaned, her stomach growling and her body aching. "Like I need to eat something and go back to sleep."

"Caecilius get her some food. Cassiopeia do you feel up to filling us in on what happened? You have been missing for a week and there was an explosion on the other side of town. We quarantined the scene but everything was lost in the blast."

She struggled to sit up, "any survivors?" She asked, just to be certain.

"We found a body. The explosion appears to be magical in origin though the muggles think it was part of the ongoing civil war."

"Dr Luka Ilič, he abducted me. He was the one who has been creating those curses." Just the simple movement of sitting up left her shaking and out of breath.

"Abducted you? What happened to you? The doctors couldn't find anything physically wrong but you look terrible."

"Cheers," She muttered, wondering how much she should say.

"It hasn't been a great week. I'm fine, just need to rest. And get a new wand." She said sadly, catching a glimpse of her ruined wand on a table in the room.

Caecilius returned with a platter of food and her stomach growled insistently once more.

"Eat and rest. I expect a report as soon as you are able. For now it seems we've caught our guy. Caecilius stay with her, make sure she's looked after."

The mercenary nodded, "marm."

"I'm glad you're alright Miss Tonks, all things considered." She said softly before leaving the room.

She dug into her food, ignoring Caecilius completely. She was ravenous.

"Cleaned you up before I brought you in." He said casually, leaning against the wall, watching her.

"Killed that bloke then? Must've since you was covered in blood that was certainly not from you. I admit that takes balls." He continued.

Cassiopeia froze as she watched him. "Don't you worry your little head. I didn't tell no one, I know how things go in the field. What must be done. Body was burned to a crisp, no evidence of any knife wounds." He gave her a dark smirk and a wink. "Disposed of that knife for you as well."

She swallowed thickly, staring at the man uncertainly. "I don't know what you mean," she said slowly.

He grinned at her widely, "that's the spirit. You know when they brought you in, I thought you were an uptight cow. But now I can see why they were so keen to recruit you. They should recruit more like you." He said conversationally.

Cassiopeia slowed her eating, trying to understand the man across from her. "More like me?" She asked.

"Death Eaters. Or their children. Only a Lestrange could come back so bloody and be so cool about it now. I'm feeling it. The right amount of brains and blood thirst."

Cassiopeia lost her appetite as she pushed her food away, disgusted with the man and his implications.

"I think you should go now." She said coldly.

He held up his hands in surrender, "No need to get angry Lass. Just saying, I'm a fan and your secret is safe with me. My report will match yours perfectly."

"Of course it will," she muttered, her mind turning with that new information. She would have to lie in her report, lie about Luka.

"You and I, we're cut from the same fabric. If you ever want to talk about it or get a drink together, just say the word." He smirked before taking his leave.

She remained in the hospital for a few days and they organised a portkey for her to travel to Diagon Alley, guessing that she would want to replace her wand sooner than later.

Mr Ollivander lit up as she entered his shop, "Miss Tonks. Hawthorne, dragon heart string, 12 and three quarters inches."

She smiled sadly at the man, remembering her excitement and terror the first time she had come into this shop.

"A beautiful wand that is no longer." She delicately placed her ruined wand on the counter, feeling a deep sadness at the loss.

"An unfortunate end," he said agreed sadly. "But a fresh beginning as well, let's see what we have here." He bustled into the back of his shop, looking for more wands.

She tried three before the familiar impossibility set in. Why was it so difficult to find a wand for her?

She tried walnut, yew, blackthorn, and ash.

But, as ever, Ollivander came through in the end. "Very similar— Hawthorne thirteen inches with a Phoenix feather core. Quite bendy. A curious choice for you Miss Tonks." He delicately handed her the wand.

"You have to allow some time to get acquainted with your new wand, it hasn't grown with you but will with time. It will learn from you and your habits."

"Hawthorn has served me well in the past. And my broken wand? Can nothing be done?" She asked, hoping against hope that there was some sort of repair.

"I'm afraid not. I could dispose of it if you like?" he asked kindly.

She recoiled slightly, her hands wrapping protectively over the dead piece of wood. "Er no thanks. I'll find a special place for it." She hurried out of the shop eager to get home and to try her new wand.

Her first piece of magic with her new wand was to create a frame for her old one. A memorial to her fallen friend, a reminder of what happens when she lets her guard down for just a second— even in the muggle world.

Her second order of business was to order a takeaway and take a long nap. She started her research fellowship officially with St Mungos in three days and wanted to regain as much of her natural energy as possible. It had been a stressful few weeks and she needed to re-centre herself.

She was therefore annoyed when she opened her front door to Nymphadora's face, her hand raised to knock.

"There you are Cass," she sighed, pulling her in for a hug.

"Alright Dora?" She awkwardly pat her on the back.

As far as Dora should know, she was just away in some libraries, reading books.

"Oh nothing, I was just worried for you was all. Glad you're back." Dora was an awful liar. Cassiopeia found it endearing and useful.

"Thestral shit. You were worried. Why? I was just in some libraries doing research." She said, disengaging from the hug and beckoning her sister in.

Dora fidgeted, uncertain she should say what was bothering her.

"You were gone longer than I thought you would be," she continued, toeing around the issue, "I got you a present two weeks ago thinking you'd be back. I've had to use it myself." She was starting to return to her normal teasing.

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow in amusement as she looked her cousin in the eye. There was more there and she wasn't certain she wanted to press it.

"Coffee Dora? I got a new espresso machine just for you." It had been a rather expensive investment but she had received a small fortune from the ministry after her job with the squib.

Apparently being abducted, tortured, and almost dying was enough to warrant a large pay out to keep her with them.

Not that she wrote even the half of it in her report. Dr Luka Ilič was a full wizard who held her with conventional means as far as the ministry was concerned.

"Coffee please." Her eyes lit up in delight and her hair changed to a happy pink.

Cassiopeia waved her new wand to levitate the cups out of the cupboard and set the machine. She was using her new wand for every simple task, trying to become familiar with the object and to have it become familiar with her. She had to focus more to use this wand, be more exacting in what she wanted to do and what her intent was.

She was so in tune with her last wand, the magic knowing what she wanted to do almost before she did. She wanted this wand to be the same and she was almost ready to start running magic drills with it.

"What happened to you old wand?" Of course Dora was particularly observant and noticed the change right away. She also noticed her framed broken wand on the wall.

"A little mishap on my travels," she said lightly.

"Dusty libraries. What in the bloody hell can happen in a dusty library that would cause that? Merlin Cass this looks like it was snapped. What happened to you last week?" Her sister rounded on her, slipping into her auror interrogation voice.

"I'm fine Dora. Look maybe you should skip the coffee. What was this about a present?" She tried to steer the conversation away.

Nymphadora glared at her suspiciously, summoning the fresh espresso to her hand, "don't tell me what to do." She said petulantly. "This conversation isn't over Cass. But we are gonna be late. Get dressed in some comfortable loose fitting clothes. Muggle ones."

Dora was tight lipped as she led her sister around the muggle part of town, refusing to give any hint of where they were going.

Her present apparently was a gym. A muggle boxing gym.

"I thought this could be a good outlet for you to you know, work some things out on a bag and not a person." Dora didn't forget the excitement and glee she saw on the girl's face during a bar fight.

"And you also signed up?" Cassiopeia asked

"Yeh, I thought it was something we could do together. Sister bonding and all that." She seemed embarrassed and was trying very hard to control her hair colour in the muggle world.

Cassiopeia was touched, and she leaned over to give the girl a firm half hug before coughing in embarrassment.

"Nothing says family bonding like punching each other."

"Me punching you, I have two weeks of training on you." Dora shot back, starting to feel competitive.

"I have years of fighting, we'll see who comes out on top."

Though neither would find out for months -having to go through the basics before being let into the ring with each other.

Both girls were hooked, Dora found the training complemented her auror combat training, and Cassiopeia began to feel the familiar, albeit muted, thrill of the fight.

Both girls signed up for full membership and Cassiopeia was fairly confident she found her new favourite place.

But it was while she was punching a heavy bag, doing number drills, did she remember something her sister said earlier.

What had happened last week?

How had she known something happened last week? She shouldn't know anything about the situation with Luka.

She took her growing worry and paranoia out on the bag, punching it with all of her strength and emotion, shocking the instructors there with her ferocity.

When the class finally ended she let out a long sigh of relief. She was still concerned about how Dora knew she had been in trouble but she felt better for the workout.

Carefully undoing her hand wraps she headed to the showers with her sister, the two being the only girls meaning they had the tiny changing room to themselves.

Casting a quick silencing charm she turned to her sister who was using her wand to dry her hair.

"What happened last week to make you worry about me." She was almost afraid to ask, but she had to know.

Dora fidgeted, "perhaps we should take this back to your flat?"

"You can't tell me even a hint?" She tried to keep her tone light but she failed.

Dora cast her a sideways look. "You'll want to see the transcripts. Come on, I'm finished getting ready, are you?"

Transcripts? What could she possibly be on about?

Eager to continue the conversation the pair said their goodbyes and ducked into an alleyway to apparate home.

"Got any juice Cass? I'm parched," Dora busied herself In Cassiopeia's fridge, digging around for something to drink. "Ah hell, why not? Want a beer Cass?"

She accepted a beer from her sister with a glare, "You're being evasive. Just tell me, i'm fine and alive."

"And alive? What happened Cass where that's even a question. Where were you really?"

"I was researching that's all. I had a spot of trouble with a curse but it was nothing I couldn't handle. It _is_ my field after all. How did you know I had some challenges last week? What transcripts?"

Dora gave her a hard stare, not believing anything she said. Finally she reached into her bag and pulled out a folder. "Bellatrix Lestrange was highly agitated all last week. Crying out for you."

Cassiopeia felt cold as she took a large gulp of her beer and flipped the file open. She paled when she read the rough timestamps of when her mother shouted. They appeared at first glance to coincide roughly when the stone artefact was placed on her.

She sat down heavily, her chest seized with fear as she read the final transcript. Word for word they matched what she remembered.

"I thought I was hallucinating?" She murmured lowly, lost in her thoughts.

"What do you mean you thought you were hallucinating?" Dora asked sharply, glaring down at her sister.

"Nothing." She snapped the folder shut and tried to give her sister a convincing smile. "Thanks for bringing this to my attention. Good to hear she is still mad."

"She was talking to you Cass," she grabbed the file back. "Do it Cassie, kill him... make him beg Cassie, it will be so easy."

She felt nauseous as her sister read the transcript aloud.

"And now you're back, with a wand snapped in half, saying you had a small mishap with a curse. Cassiopeia did—did you hurt someone last week—or worse?" Her voice was low, dropping almost to a whisper as she tried to catch her eye.

"What are you suggesting Dora?" She stood up angrily, "You know me, do you really think I might've what? Hurt someone? Killed someone? " She asked bitterly.

Dora remained silent, her face dark with concern as she watched her sister pace.

Cassiopeia stopped and turned on her in disbelief when she never responded. "You think I could kill someone. No, no- it's worse than that, you think I did don't you?" Betrayal lanced through her body. When has she shown her monster to her adopted family, what had she done to make them suspicious, where did she fail?

"Cass, if you did, even if it was an accident you have to tell me. We can get it all figured out but you have to come clean."

"Get out Dora, I didn't commit any recognisable crimes." She didn't. The ministry had told her as much. She was acting for the greater good of the nation.

"Don't push me away Cass. Look I'm sorry, I shouldn't of said anything, of course you didn't kill anyone— that's preposterous. You can't even kill a spider," she was trying to backtrack.

"Why would I kill a spider? They eat annoying bugs." She retorted, feeling more and more wounded as the conversation went on.

"You believe the words of a certifiable mad woman, an actual killer, in prison for life, over your own sister. How would I even talk to her? How would I even hear her? Why would I even want to reach out to her? And you take her side, accusing me of murder? Fuck you Dora."

Dora for her part looked miserable as she tried to envelop her in a hug. "I'm sorry, you're right Cass, when you say it like that. I was just so worried about you, and the timing, everything. I'm glad you are Ok. She was probably bored and messing with our heads." She said, trying to placate her sister who was rapidly closing herself off.

She sighed in relief when she felt Cassiopeia relax just a fraction beneath her grip.

"You really hurt me Dora." She said, her voice small. She hated manipulating the young auror but it was the only way. They couldn't know about the monster she was, she couldn't handle losing them. "How could you think I could do something like that." She kept her voice small and was pleased when the auror tightened her grip.

"Look, forget I ever said anything. Still on tomorrow for dinner with my parents?" Dora sniffed, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah. Course." The girls moved apart from each other, each filled with their own guilt and reluctant to look at each other.

Nymphadora took her leave shortly after, deciding to go for a walk before heading home, her head swimming with doubt and guilt. She wanted to believe her sister, truly she did. And she had made a few great points, how could she communicate with a woman who was locked up tight in Azkaban?

And yet, she had seen her face when she read the transcript— she had been familiar with her mother's words.

And she had been intentionally vague about just what trouble she ran into last week. Her wand had definitely been snapped by someone. No curse could cause that, she was sure.

And Dora wasn't certain Cassiopeia couldn't kill anyone. She read that transcript a hundred times. He hurt you, he violated you, he tried to kill you, she had said.

She had seen the girl cornered, and she had seen her in a fight. She had a certain bloodlust that overwhelmed her ability to think things through rationally. She lacked self control and she did believe that she could kill, albeit accidentally. Especially if someone pushed her to desperation. Someone who had spent days hurting her, and Merlin knows what she meant by violate. Cassiopeia could probably kill quite easily, accidentally, if it was in self defence.

She frowned in thought, concerned and uncertain what to do with that concern. She couldn't turn to anyone in the Auror office, they would want to bring her in for questioning. They would condemn her without evidence, eager to see the Lestrange girl in prison.

But perhaps... perhaps Moody would help her, give her some advice. He had known Cassiopeia as a child, and knew her parents. He was no longer an auror and had come straight to her with the information on Bellatrix.

She would have to trust that he could hold her confidence.

And what could they really do? There was no evidence of an actual crime having been committed. There was no body, no disappearances, and no suspicious circumstances.

She couldn't convict her sister on the words of a psychopath. But she could suspect and observe.

Cassiopeia for her part sent an urgent letter, and paced nervously around the room waiting for the person to respond, falling deeper and deeper into a pit of despair and panic.

"Professor" she straightened when she heard the distinct pop of his apparition.

"Pray tell what this emergency is that I had to leave my dinner early for." the greasy professor said lowly, irritation plain across his face and body language.

Cassiopeia wasted no time, "My mother. She's connected to me. Somehow through this bracelet."

The professor stilled, looking at his former student closely, making sure he understood her correctly. "And why do we think that?" he asked lightly.

"She came to me. Or at least her magic did, I was able to draw on her power and I heard her— like an echo in the back of my head. An echo that grew stronger the more I pulled on her power, I felt her professor, I was able to speak to her." Panic and fear was leaking into her voice as she said it out loud.

"And why were we attempting to pull on her magic?" he asked, probing her mind carefully. He almost smirked when he hit her barriers immediately. At least she had been practicing her occlumency.

She blushed, scratching the back of her neck nervously "I can't really say professor. I signed a contact with the consequences amounting to treason."

His eyes narrowed as she spoke, wondering just what organisations she had been involved with to warrant such a contract. He was familiar in passing with these types of contracts however, and how to circumvent them.

"I see." He said carefully.

"There was a power imbalance sir. One where she was the stronger of the two of us. Do you think, what I felt, she could feel too?" She sat down heavily on her chair, pulling a beer bottle closer as she thought through the implications.

"It seems likely. What caused this power imbalance? Is it likely to happen again?" He was concerned for her, concerned by whatever could cause such a situation.

"No. I made sure of that." she said assuredly

"Why do you think you were not simply hallucinating." It was a distant hope that this was all in her head. But she was a clever girl, who understood magic and her own mind better than most.

"I thought it was at first, but then I found out she called for me. In Azkaban. Several times across several days. Times where I was effected. She laughed— she egged me on, when I felt her, she gave me strength. Can she do that sir? With legili-whatsit? Could she be that powerful?" She was terrified. She had felt more power than she had ever felt in her life, was that how her mother felt every day? Was that what she was capable of?

People often told her that her mother had been prodigious but that level of power was terrifying.

"She was the only student the Dark Lord took on. He taught her a great many things, occlumency certainly but I do not know the extent of her legilimency skills." He said truthfully, reaching out to grab her wrist and examine the bracelet.

"Have you felt anything since?" She was already shaking her head as he asked the question.

"I felt a pulse then. The bracelet throbbed. But now It feels like a useless piece of metal. Lifeless and cold."

"I see." Severus was concerned, if even a fraction of what she believed was correct then he too had been underestimating the skills of that witch. Worrying at the best of times but now, as his Dark Mark was beginning to grow more pronounced—it seemed like an omen. He had to know more.

"I have heard of cursed contracts like the one you have signed. The Dark Lord developed a way to circumvent them. You can not _willingly_ show or tell me anything." He said softly, fingering his wand.

"Correct..." She said slowly, worried about his exact wording and emphasis on the word willingly.

"I do apologise." He sneered, feeling not an ounce of regret, "legilimens"

She put up a good fight, her fear of a lifetime in Azkaban overwhelming everything else.

But he had trained her, he had taught her all of her tricks. And he was more powerful than anyone except perhaps the Dark Lord himself in the mental arts. She could fight, but he would always win.

He watched the scene play out, saw her anguish at her wand being snapped by an unknown man, her imprisonment, and her final fight with him.

He paid special attention to the fight, watching her body flood with magic that was not her own, as she tapped into something deeper and foreign. Something that should be impossible.

She was unrecognisable under the influence of the foreign magic, more Bellatrix Lestrange than Cassiopeia, her eyes alight with rage and bloodlust.

He watched her cut this man down cruelly and efficiently with her knife. He watched her bask in the violence.

And he watched her ultimately kill the man.

He was sickened by the display, terrified of the vision he saw, and for a moment he doubted whether there was anything redeemable in the girl across from him. Here she was a monster.

It wasn't until he pulled out of her mind and took in her shaking hysterical form that he was reminded that she wasn't a monster but a girl, a girl who had been taught how to be a monster and who was trying desperately to be better.

A girl he had hurt by ripping into her mind.

He thought of the magic he had seen years ago, tendrils of her essence being funnelled into the bracelet, powering it. And apparently doing much more.

To tether oneself so closely as Bellatrix apparently had should be impossible. But there were many things that should be impossible that Cassiopeia kept stumbling upon. Including a weapon that could drain magic apparently. The less he knew about that the better.

Whatever Bellatrix made was apparently a two way street, each person able to pull strength from the other. It was dangerous, if one died while the other was attached it could have catastrophic effects. That must be why Bellatrix reversed the flow of power. She understood the danger her daughter had been in and protected her.

Saved her.

Perhaps only to save herself.

This magic was the darkest Snape had ever come across, "Did your mother ever take your blood?" He asked sharply.

Cassiopeia was a wreck, hyperventilating on the floor as sobs wracked her body. The stress of the last few weeks, of seeing that memory again, and of his mental invasion pushing her over the edge.

Even so, she sniffed loudly, wiping her nose and struggled to speak clearly. "Y-you think it's blood magic. Whatever is linking us." She managed to say as she fought to control her breathing.

"I think it must be." He confirmed

She nodded, "She had many opportunities to collect my blood. I can't remember her doing it though." She said bitterly, remembering all the times she had bled at her mother's hand.

"We always knew this was more than a simple tracking spell." He said heavily, the implications of this conversation making his head spin. "Now that we suspect it's extent, we can take steps to protect you from it."

"How?" She looked wretched on the floor, like a small frightened child, so different from the beast he saw in her memories.

"How did you pull on the magic?"

"I focussed on it, meditated. It helped me find my strength." She looked off into the distance as she tried to remember.

"Then do that. Focus on keeping your energy with you. On cutting the flow through the trinket." He said simply.

She nodded miserably, wiping her face.

"Try that for a few weeks and let me know how that goes. My dinner is going cold," he said sharply, leaving just as abruptly as he arrived.

He wouldn't admit it to her, but those images effected him more than he let on. He was unnerved being in the same room as her, the night and day vision of the same person. The bloodlust he saw in her eyes.

He felt as if he was going to be sick.

Cassiopeia remained on the ground, lost in her memory and the shame she felt.

Her mother has been proud of her. She remembered that, she felt it.

And she ached to feel it again.

She missed her mother, despite everything she had done to her, and everything she had now in her life, she didn't think she would ever not miss her, at least a little bit. Bellatrix cared about her, in her own way. She had saved her, given her strength when she felt her distress.

And she wondered what else her mother had felt over the years?

She slept poorly that night, wracked with nightmares of Luka and Bellatrix.

Xxxxx

Dora accepted the cup of tea from her mentor and friend Alastair Moody, with a grim determination.

"You think your sister killed somebody," he stated simply and she frowned heavily, nodding slowly with his assessment.

"I'm not sure about killed, but at the very least hurt." she amended carefully.

"Serious accusations. And you believe this because she was lying about knowing more about her mother's outburst?"

She nodded.

"But there is no body, no evidence of a crime. She has been out of the country but we don't know where. We have no timeline. That's where you need to start, figure out where she's been."

"Somewhere with sun, she's caught the sun in her travels. I think she was in the Balkans, she seemed unusually interested in the ongoing muggle conflict recently. But you don't think I'm crazy? For even suspecting?"

Moody eyed her critically for a moment, measuring his words, "I think you have cracking instincts. I am inclined to trust them,"

"But she's my sister. How can I even think she's done something so terrible?" She felt miserable in her doubt.

"Cousin. And not just any cousin, but a Lestrange. Your family looks beyond that which is admirable but it doesn't change the fact that she spent a large part of her formative years surrounded by violence and probably death. Even when she was with your family, she has always exhibited violent tendencies." He stated, "just because we like someone and we want to believe the best of them doesn't mean they are good people or innocent."

"You knew her before she came to us, was it really that bad?" She had heard stories in passing of Cassiopeia's childhood and she had read the case files on the Lestranges but she had a hard time reconciling what she knew to be fact and the person she saw today.

Moody took a long sip of his tea, smacking his lips as he thought over her question and his response. "I think any person is capable of murder if they were under the right kind of pressure. She is no different. I also think you should read the reports of her as a child, especially if you want to understand the woman she is today."

"I've read all of the reports Moody," she said in frustration.

"No ye haven't. You read the ministry reports, I was talking about the reports from the Order of the Phoenix. She was with us for a few weeks, and when she left our care—willingly mind you— well, there were concerns." He pushed himself out of his chair, getting up to look for the reports he had stashed away.

"Concerns?" she asked nervously.

"She was a child Tonks. What do children want the most?" He asked her.

"I dunno, sweets?"

"Love. Especially from our parents, and children are willing to do anything to receive that love." He said simply, digging through his old paperwork.

"She hates her parents Moody. She's made that abundantly clear on multiple occasions."

"Sure she has some hate for them, but I suspect it is not as black and white as that. She saved her mother's life if I recall—ah," he found the files he was looking for.

"Read. And find out where she's been on her travels. Right now no crime has been committed. You'll need to find the body or this whole conversation is moot."

Xxx

She was glad to be back at St Mungos and glad to be away from the ministry and its secrets.

Of course new nightmares began plaguing her every night. She would wake up in a cold sweat, phantom pain radiating from her chest, panicked that she was losing her magic. She took to sleeping with her wand nearby, just in case.

She was still on call for them for a year, but she suspected she would not be renewing her contract with them.

But she would take the money while it came, and her research fellowship at the hospital. If nightmares were the cost then so be it. She had survived her childhood nightmares. How bad could these be?

She was greeted by Lionel who was cheerful as ever, showing her the office and workroom she was allotted.

Theo Ashmole also found time to come down and say hello during one of his breaks, pleased she was back from her travels.

At St Mungos she felt at home, she felt insulated from all of her concerns and worries. The rest of the wizarding world felt far away. She could hide in her basement and try to do some good for the world.

Her life fell into a normal routine, going to work, going home, going to the gym with her sister, arcade with Ted, cinema with Andromeda, lunch with Theo, and brunch with Narcissa. She met with her solicitor every now and then to see how her projects were progressing but for the most part Cassiopeia kept herself busy.

Almost dying and losing her wand brought a new perspective on her life— she focussed on the things most important to her— her friends and her family.

She had decided to write down what she could of Dr Ilič's work, but she needed to be certain she could keep his secrets safe from those that would exploit it. So she devised a code to write her memories of his notes in. She also wanted to create a heavily warded, lightly cursed box to keep the notes in. She was musing designs for this one day down in her basement office when she was interrupted by Mr Spavin who was apparently giving a tour to some big wig or another.

She dropped her feet off the table when she heard the knock on her work room door.

"And down here is where one of our research fellows works, Cassiopeia Tonks. Any interesting experiments happening today Cassiopeia?" Lionel asked, gesturing around her humble workspace.

She started to straighten up and paused when she saw who it was.

"Uncle Lucius. What a...surprise. What brings you to St Mungos?" she asked the man who looked around her work space with a small sneer.

"Is this where they've got you then? The basement? Hardly suitable for a witch of your caliber." Lucius said lightly, his nose wrinkled in distaste at her small office.

"Oh er-" Lionel started to speak but was interrupted by Cassiopeia, "the basement is the safest place for me to work Uncle Lucius, the magic I work with is highly unstable and often explosive. These walls are reinforced to contain any such mishap. You can see some scorching up on the ceiling from some failed experiments." she pointed up to the deep pockmarks and scorches on the walls, evidence of violent reactions.

Lucius's eyebrows raised as he appraised the damage. "Far be it for me to judge the suitability of the environment then." he acknowledged.

"Mr Malfoy here was generous enough to donate to the hospital's charitable foundation, and was just taking a tour to see how we will use the money to better our abilities to serve our patients needs." Lionel said graciously, smiling at the two, his eyes flicking between them sharply.

"Of course. My uncle is a very charitable man. My placement here however is paid for by the Ministry of Magic, I simply rent the facility from St Mungos. We could do with an update to the potions labs upstairs." she suggested, hoping to get them out of her work space.

"And admirable suggestion Cassiopeia, if you follow me Mr Malfoy," Spavin took the transition with grace, hoping to move on.

"Come round for dinner sometimes Cassiopeia, Draco is back from school and would love to see you." Lucius said, ignoring Mr Spavin's attempts to usher him on.

"I'll set it up with Narcissa at brunch this weekend." she promised, giving him a suitably false smile.

It was apparently enough to appease him, with a short nod and another glance at her damaged ceiling, he allowed Lionel to shuffle him on along the tour.

She snorted when he left, "charitable my arse," she muttered wonder what official he was trying to bribe. But she supposed money was money and beggars can't be choosers in the hospital business.

She figured a new potions lab was worth whatever favour Lucius was trying to buy with his donation.

With a final roll of her eyes she reclined in her chair, continuing her thoughts on how to securely ward and curse a box.

Xxx

Dora felt strange as she read through the reports Moody had given her about Cassiopeia and she could only bear to bring them out late at night when the world was quiet and everything was calm

It felt dirty, like she was spying on her sister. And considering she actually did spy on her sister for months, this feeling was worse.

It was hard to believe the girl she read about in those files was the same girl she knew today. She was beginning to wonder how much exaggeration there was, or if there was any fudging of the facts.

Their Cassiopeia, or lost child as they referred to her in the beginning seemed almost feral. A wild child who was terrified of everything and everyone.

She wouldn't eat any food that wasn't consumed in part by another person. She hid from sight and jumped at loud noises. She seemed attached to a young Charlie Weasley and had never tasted sweets or desserts. She had been stick thin and lashed out violently if she felt threatened.

But most the day she hid. Behind bookshelves, in cabinets, in corners behind furniture. She tried to remain out of sight and silent for most her days.

She barely spoke and when she did it was always alarming. Charlie had told his mother that she was terrified of mothers and she asked what scars her mother had given him.

And then she left— ran away into the night one day, calling out You-Know-Who's name which was taboo at that time.

The reports grew more vague. Sightings of the girl on battlefields. Always with her mother, never her father. She was spotted holding her mother's wand one day, her face screwed up in concentration before they were interrupted.

There was a particularly scathing report from Sirius Black about her, Cassiopeia actually throwing a knife at him, causing him to miss his chance at ambushing Bellatrix.

Moody wrote about seeing her in the Ministry, loitering in the auror department, making herself small and unseen.

He also wrote about how her father had very nearly pulled her arm out of her socket when he found her. Moody had threatened him with child abuse but Cassiopeia denied any mistreatment.

It was difficult imagining this was Cassiopeia. The girl she knew now was strong, independent, and reasonably outgoing. She was smart, opinionated, and passionate. So different from the shell of a girl they wrote about in their reports.

But then, Cassiopeia had grown a lot in the years since she came to live with them. She did remember thinking her quiet and strange when she first moved in. Always listening to music and keeping to herself. She had been careful at school with people, and she was possibly the most paranoid person she had ever met. Perhaps even more so than Moody.

She supposed she had seen some of the girls peculiarities as they were growing up. Their first christmas together as a family Cassiopeia had held each present reverently, carefully unwrapping each parcel, savouring the moment. She also had seemed quite shocked whenever someone suggested they celebrate something like her birthday. And even today, she ate her deserts and sweets unbelievably slowly, always scraping the plate for every last morsel.

She read and re-read the reports, paying close attention to the glimpses of her on a battlefield. Cassiopeia always thrived in violence and conflict. She had witnessed it, either duelling or fighting with her fists, even at the gym Dora saw the muted glee in her eyes, the way she got lost in the chaos. She was passionate then, full of energy, and often lost to reason.

She imagined what Cassiopeia felt in a fight was similar to a runner's high, a euphoria almost like a drug that overpowered the rational side of her brain, pushing her for more. She could get lost in violence.

And she wondered if that particular trait could be traced back to those moments in her life. On a battlefield, with her mother's wand, learning from the woman directly.

Did she bond with Bellatrix? Did they laugh together? Did Bellatrix tuck her into bed at night? Did she talk to her daughter about boys? Was the woman more than a monster? Did she care for her child?

And did Cassiopeia care for her mother? Did she love her? Did she want to make her proud? And what would it take to make Bellatrix Lestrange proud?

It was too grim of a thought but Dora was beginning to wonder just how much she actually knew about her sister.

Did her sister kill then? Under the guidance of Bellatrix Lestrange. She had certainly witnessed murders, and probably witnessed people being tortured. And did she kill now? Somehow under the influence of the same woman? Was that even possible?

She tried to trace her whereabouts for the few weeks she was gone for. There was no record of a portkey going to the continent on that day. She reached out to a few libraries that Cassiopeia mentioned in passing—they had no record of her visit.

Cassiopeia mentioned something about the Department of Magical Games the other day at dinner, and when questioned how she even knew anything about that department, she had edged around the topic.

She knew someone there, met in passing. Bertha Jorkins.

Bertha Jorkins had gone on holiday recently, on her way to the Adriatic.

She was also missing.

Xxx

Cassiopeia didn't read the news. She avoided it actually, preferring to remain ignorant of the goings on in the wizarding world as a nod to her own mental health.

Therefore she was quite surprised to see the dark glares and unusually rude behaviour from her colleagues at the hospital. By her morning tea break she finally got a reluctant Theo to explain to her why she was suddenly the victim of unwarranted hostility.

Mayhem at the World Cup final. Muggles attacked, Death Eaters spotted, and a Dark Mark cast over the games.

She narrowed her eyes at headlines, her mind turning darkly to her uncle who had been present at the games himself. He had used his donation to the hospital to leverage VIP tickets. This reeked of him.

"And they what? Think I was one of them? Reliving the worst days of my life? Idiots." She growled, crumpling the page up in disgust.

"I wasn't even at the bloody game. I don't even think I know how quidditch is even played," she slumped in her chair.

"Unfortunately this reminded some of them of who you were. It's dumb, give it a week or two and everything will go back to normal. You'll see."

She ground her teeth in frustration. No matter what she did or how she acted, it was finally sinking in that she would always be a Lestrange and therefore a potential threat. She had known these people for years, worked with them, regarded a few as friends. And yet when something like this happened, the past might as well not exist. She became a symbol, a relic of past horrors.

"Thanks for telling me Theo. I better go, there is a book in the library I wanted to check out for a personal project."

He reached over to grab her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't let their small mindedness hurt you Cassiopeia. Focus on your real friends, because you do have them."

She stewed in her anger and indignation. She wished her life could be simple, that she had a normal family and normal upbringing.

But life wasn't fair, and she lost the parental lottery being born as she was. And the people who care about her, who held her near and dear, didn't know her.

She had killed someone. Cut him down in cold blood as recently as a few months ago. Sure, she hadn't quite been in an exactly normal frame of mind during the event, and sure she might've been justified.

But the way she killed the man, the brutal efficiency of it made her wonder whether her colleagues were right to look at her suspiciously. She may not have had any part of the muggle baiting but she was guilty of far worse.

She went to her boxing gym, working her anger and frustration out on a heavy bag until her arms ached and she gasped for breath.

Xxx

Being on call for the ministry was a strange experience, she was often summoned at strange times of the night, asked to come into the ministry normally to examine an object, or in one case an agent who had been struck by a strange curse.

She met others like her, on call witches and wizards who were paid handsomely to work in the grey areas or who received lucrative fellowships or posts in return.

But she was never asked to go into the field again, something she was thankful for.

Working with the confiscated magic books was enlightening and often terrifying. Most of the books were protected by often deadly curses, so she was careful in selecting which books would be most promising for her research.

These books were more than books of curses though. These would be a person's most valuable possession, a collection of spells, diary entries, naturalistic observations about how certain herbs interacted with each other.

She generally enjoyed reading these less dangerous passages and spent her time replicating either a useful spell or a tip to extract a potent herb efficiently.

As for creating new magic she had very few ideas. And unfortunately all her ideas required Luka's magic draining rune formation.

Luka had not been a wizard, he could not create spells in the same way a wizard could. His methods had been laborious and meticulous, sketching symbols of power and twining them together just so.

She was able to simplify his method and was working on a containment spell, a spell that pulled power from the magic it was trying to contain, whether it was Fiendfyre or worse.

It was still highly theoretical, and such a spell would take months to make and test for reliability in performance and whether others could cast it.

And that was the biggest challenge. Cassiopeia had never made a spell that others could easily cast. She always worked magic at a diagram level, completing whatever she was making by sheer force of will and intent.

And the situations she assumed someone would need to cast this spell could be extreme, so reliability and ease of use were important.

She bent over a fresh notepad, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, the sooner she could make a start the sooner she could finish it.

Xxx

She was surprised to hear from Charlie Weasley of all people, who was passing through town on his way to Hogwarts for work. She wasn't sure why Charlie would have business at Hogwarts given he worked with dragons and she assumed he would at least have quite the story to tell her.

They met in a quiet muggle pub, each preferring the solitude of the muggle world to the wizarding. Unlike the last time they parted ways after a dinner at the Weasleys, there was no awkwardness or melancholy. They met like old friends, conversation flowing and even a few jokes were shared.

His job was exciting, and she was enthralled by his stories of Romania and his adventures on the reservation. She in turn told him about her research, omitting sensitive information of course, and some amusing mishaps from the hospital.

They talked until they were the last patrons in the pub. The conversation didn't pause as they walked around the quiet streets of London in the early hours of the morning, each unwilling to break the calm of the moment. Charlie didn't hesitate when she invited him back to her flat for a nightcap, and it wasn't until each had fallen asleep in their respective chairs did the night finally came to an end.

She felt a strange feeling that she couldn't quite describe as he went on his way early the next morning, to tend to some dragons in the Forbidden Forest. The feeling grew even stronger as they hugged goodbye, the hug lasting longer than she was normally comfortable with. But unlike most hugs, where she was relieved when they ended, she found she felt rather empty as he pulled away.

"Cheers Cass, I'll be at Hogwarts for a week or so, but I think I should be able to take another night to come through town. I'll let you know." And with a final smile he was off.

She was distracted as she worked that day, mulling over the strange feeling in her chest, and how she felt after his hug. It was ridiculous really, she tried to push him out of her mind and focus on her spell work, but the harder she tried, the more he crept back into her mind.

It was hormones she decided. Ever since the incident with Luka a few months ago, she had isolated herself from men, all men, including muggles. Luka had shown her that muggles could be dangerous if she let her guard down, and sleeping with them required a certain level of vulnerability that she was no longer comfortable with.

So instead of dealing with the underlying issues she was sure existed, she decided that remaining celibate was the answer. Charlie was the first boy she had any contact with in ages, perhaps that was why she was feeling funny.

And yet, a small part of her wondered if there wasn't something more to it.

Charlie had always been athletic, and working in Romania agreed with him. He had been recently promoted, that was part of the reason why he travelled back to the U.K. to handle the dragons for the school, and the extra responsibility looked good on him too. He had also taken to growing his hair out a little longer, He was happy and he was healthy.

And now that she thought of it, she wondered if she hadn't felt this before. Years ago, when she had flooed the reservation in Romania to tell him about his sister, she remembered feeling uncomfortable when she saw a pretty girl answer the call. Did he have a girlfriend? Maybe one of the witch's who worked with him?

It was stupid, she was too old to be distracted by boys.

But then Charlie wasn't a boy anymore, he was a man. A very good looking and kind hearted man.

She was annoyed when her heart skipped a beat when he wrote to her again, suggesting they meet up.

She was even more annoyed when she found herself fumbling with things in the pub, suddenly nervous around one of her oldest friends. Unlike the first time they met, this time she was stilted in her conversation, and unusually clumsy, spilling her drink both on herself and the table. Charlie tried to laugh it off because he was nice, but the longer she spent in his company, the more she realised her feelings, and the more mortified she felt.

Charlie took her strange behaviour in stride, laughing away her small drink mishaps and filling the silence, and she disliked that she liked him even more for his. He was so bloody considerate, he was too great of a guy for her. She didn't deserve to be with anyone like him, she would just ruin it by being her.

She hugged him closely as they said good night to each other, her hands tightening unconsciously as he moved to pull away. He paused, uncertain for a moment, knowing her usual aversion to physical conflict, before hesitantly pulling her closer.

She sighed, relaxing into his arms, taking in the familiar smell of the boy. Finally when the usual amount of time for a hug to last passed, he asked her softly, "alright there Cass?"

She burying her face in his neck, hiding her burning face, before reluctantly letting the boy go. He stayed close to her, in her personal space, hovering, ready and uncertain. "I'm alright Charlie, I am just so happy to see you,"

He nodded, smiling softly as he rested his hands carefully on her shoulders, ducking down to catch her eyes. "It's been a joy being with you Cass, it's a shame the night has ended so early." he spoke softly in a low voice, watching her face carefully, conflict warring on his face.

'I uh-" she looked up at him, still so close, she could also feel the body heat radiating from him and his lips were so close. All he had to do was lean in just a little-

"Cass?" he asked uncertainly, snapping her out of her daze.

She was mortified, her face blazing red as she realised what she had been about to do. She was about to kiss Charlie Weasley, of all people in the world. She had almost ruined everything with her actions.

"Sorry-" she started, trying to pull away. He tightened his grip on her shoulders, his eyebrows furrowing in concern.

"Were you about to kiss me?" he asked finally.

"I-i'm sorry Charlie, I don't know what-" she froze as he pressed his mouth onto hers, his kiss sudden and tentative.

He pulled away, his face as red as his hair, looking horrified. "I-Merlin, I am sorry, I just thought-"

She pulled his face back towards her, silencing him and his apologies, sighing happily.

This kiss was different than what she was used to, she cared deeply about this man and she felt a strange emotion lance through her very being. It was a warm and pleasant feeling.

The kiss was slow, tentative, and gentle. Each person taking their time to explore each other, both in the moment. This kiss stood apart from every kiss she had experienced thus far in her life. This kiss was special, because of who she was sharing it with. He was someone she had grown up with, who had taught her so much about the world, who had been kind to her even as she lashed out. She knew this boy well and felt—something— she wasn't quite sure what yet but a something strong for him.

And when they finally broke apart she felt light headed and like she was thrumming with energy. They stared at each other, both blushing bright red and neither certain what to say.

"Can I er come visit you? Soon?" He asked nervously.

She smiled widely, relief and happiness flooding her being. "Yes, I think I would like that a lot." She sighed, twining her hands loosely around his neck carefully.

"Wicked," he breathed, his shoulders slumping slightly, "Er how is next weekend for you? Can I take you out for dinner?"

"Dinner sounds lovely." She smiled.

And so Charlie became a part of her routine, with him sometimes coming to London or more often she would go to Romania. Travel was hard to plan with their schedules and life so the two took to writing letters multiple times a day until she had finally convinced him to use a muggle telephone.

It took him a few tries to get used to his volume control on the phone, and he still needed help dialling the numbers but she found it both amusing and endearing. And hearing his voice wasn't too bad either.

Being with Charlie made her happy. She found she worked better, she felt better, and she slept better after talking with him. And it did not go unnoticed.

Her sister cornered her one day after the gym, where Cassiopeia had put on a rather lacklustre performance.

"Who's the guy?" She asked sharply, using what Cassiopeia had dubbed the 'auror voice'

"Why do you think there is a guy?" She asked innocently, throwing her sweaty clothes into a gym bag.

"You look like the dragon that ate the lamb. So out with it," she said.

"Funny you should mention dragons…" she trailed off, raising her eyebrows for emphasis.

"No bloody way," Dora's hair turned bright blonde in disbelief. "Little Charlie Weasley? Of all the guys I thought you be with, that was the bottom of my list. How in Merlin's name did that happen? When did you even see him?"

"He came by to see me, he was on his way up to Hogwarts for the triwizard tournament and we met up. We are taking things slow, getting to know each other as adults you know?"

"Gross," Nymphadora retorted, her hair turning a sickly green.

Cassiopeia scowled and threw a boxing glove at her, "not like that you creep, I meant who we've become after Hogwarts you know? I have grown a lot since he left."

"Well good then. It's—I'm happy to see you happy." Dora said, giving her a warm squeeze on the shoulder.

"I am happy," Cassiopeia said, sitting back with that realisation. She felt warm and happy, she was content for the first time in her life. She was even optimistic about the future. Perhaps everything will work out OK.

xxxx

By the autumn of 1994 she was ready to start testing her spell.

She was keen to get the spell completed before the late winter, when her fellowship expired. She had promised them magic, and she did not want to delay her delivery of that promise. She did not want to extend the length of time she would have to work for the Ministry.

So she requested a second person to help her during the testing period. She needed someone who had good reflexes, could cast powerful elemental spells and understood the inherent dangers of spell testing.

They sent her Caecilius Jovius. He was rather chuffed about the situation. She was not.

They relocated to an abandoned muggle military testing facility up north, a place where they could practice her new containment spell.

Caecilius was overly familiar with her which she wasn't too fond of, but he never once mentioned the trouble in FR Yugoslavia or the murder weapon he disposed for her.

"So what's the plan darling?" He asked with a smirk, looking around the abandoned military bunker curiously.

"We are testing a containment spell. What I need from you is your magical ability. I requested someone who could cast powerful elemental spells and I will try and contain them. Simple." She said

His smirk turned sharp, "so you want me to cause some destruction then? I knew I liked you," He said lowly, rolling his shoulders and neck in preparation.

"Start at maybe 50%. We need to see the spell works first. And if it fails we need to have a plan in place so we won't die in the aftermath." She said very seriously.

"Trust me, we won't die in a silly spell testing accident. Nobody has tighter magical control that me. Let me worry about what happens if your spell fails."

And so the testing began. She had scheduled it for a week, starting bright and early and ending often late in the evening.

They fell into a routine, testing first the power of the spell—at what point did it fail. She had designed it to be self sustaining, remaining in effect for as long as the magical source contained within emitted energy. Ideally it would drain the magic and dissipate it naturally.

At first it seemed like it was working— until something caused the spell to just die, releasing all of the energy it was trying to contain.

Caecilius was correct in his assessment of his own ability. He was able to contain his own magic well before it managed to get to either of them.

It was frustrating, working through the spell structure on the fly, trying to see exactly where it failed, and coming up with a solution.

Every night found her ripping the spell apart and reconfiguring it just so, so every morning she felt confident that it would work.

Caecilius found it amusing, watching her stress about the spell integrity as he reclined in chair, spinning around idly as she worked in between spell sessions.

"How has life been treating you since we last met? You seem less bitchy and uptight," he asked, still spinning in his chair.

"Thanks," She said sarcastically, throwing him a dark glare.

"Just speaking the truth. So what's your secret? Kill somebody or fuck somebody?"

She paused her work, stilling in shock at the mans audacity.

"I don't know what you are referring to," she said carefully.

"Oh come off it, we are alone and hold each other's secrets. You can speak plainly to me." He said, finally pausing his spinning to look at her seriously.

"I hold none of your secrets. Seems very one sided to me." She said stiffly.

"Fair point. I killed a bloke last week, annoying little weasel who insisted on picking a fight with me. I didn't use magic, just my fists as I punched his face in until he stopped moving."

She stared at him, pale with shock as he spoke, "Why would you tell me that?" She asked

He shrugged, "now we are even. I know about your incident with the knife. You know about mine. We can fuck each other over."

She turned back to her spell work feeling numb as she processed his words. The man was a lunatic who felt some affinity to her for some reason.

"So who's the fuck then?" He asked, reclining once more in his chair, continuing to spin.

"None of your business," She retorted

"Oh come on. We are friends now. Friends tell each other things like that. For example as your friend I must say I am a little jealous, I would've loved to get you in bed. I bet you're wild." He was grinning now in amusement as her ears heated in embarrassment.

"Fuck off jovius," She said, beginning to lose her temper.

He laughed and raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, no questions about your fuck buddies and no enticing you to become my fuck buddy. Though if you change your mind in the future," he trailed off, raising his eyebrows at her scowl.

He remained quiet for another few minutes before sighing loudly and proclaiming, "I'm bored. Tell me what you're doing then." He stood up and went to watch her.

She sighed in frustration, wanting nothing more than to hit the man over the head. Or strangle him. Maybe that would shut him up.

"I am trying to figure out why this isn't working." She growled, moving her notes out of his line of sight.

"Oh. I know why it isn't working. You're forcing the magic too hard, it's breaking under the pressure from you, not the magic it's containing," he said simply, moving back to slump into his chair, oblivious to her wide eyed state of disbelief.

"What do you mean it's breaking under my pressure?" She bit out angrily. What did he know about theoretical magic? And who did he think he was?

"You're intense and you're pushing your will so much it's counteracting what the spell is supposed to do. Let's switch, you do something explosive and I'll contain it."

They had only a few days left to test the spell and she was out of ideas. She might as well let the arsehole have a go. Maybe if she was lucky, the spell would fail and a fireball would blow up in his face.

She was not that lucky unfortunately. She didn't know how he managed it, but Caecilius bloody did it. He got the spell working the way it should, the way she designed it, and the way she imagined it.

Time and time again, she threw more and more powerful elemental spells and every time Caecilius cast the spell, her curses were contained, drained, and dissipated.

"Not bad. But it's time to really test this spell." Caecilius said, motioning her to stand behind him.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked nervously, recognising a mad glint in his eye as he grinned down at her.

"Nobody is better at elemental spells than me love." he said with a wink, pulling out a pair of dark sunglasses and slipping them on his face "Best stay close to me."

Cassiopeia flinched away, instinctively casting her strongest shield charm and dropping to the ground, shielding her face from the onslaught of fire and fury. It felt like a bomb had gone off, a scorching heat blasting against her skin, causing it to prickle and tighten uncomfortably. It was bright, blinding white and a cold sweat broke out across her skin. She held her breath, afraid to breath, afraid of the super heated air scorching her throat and lungs.

He was bloody insane, and he was trying to kill her.

He wasn't trying, he was going to kill her.

And just as suddenly the onslaught began, it was over.

She remained crouching down, covering her face, terrified of looking up, of being blinded by the light of a burning sun, afraid to look at the damage around the room.

"Bloody Hell, now that's a god damn spell." Caecilius whistled lowly, "you'll want to see this Lestrange." he remarked, throwing out a hand clumsily, hitting her in the side of the head.

Slowly, reluctantly she peeked through her fingertips, and fell back heavily.

It worked. It bloody well worked. A fiery inferno filled the center of the room, encapsulated in a clear bubble that was growing smaller and smaller as time went on. The pair watched in silence as the inferno raged for over an hour, it's energy being slowly sapped by the containment field, until it was no more than a flicker flame, which was extinguished with an anti-climatic poof.

"I think you've earned your paycheck," Caecilius breathed, slipping off his sunglasses and helping her up.

"Yeah." she said in shock, staring at the place the inferno had been raging.

It worked. She needed to clean up a few loose ends, write up the report, but for the most part, she was done. She was free from her obligations to the Ministry.

And it felt bloody great.

 _a/n Hey folks! Thanks for sticking in there, this chapter is a few important scenes showing her growth as a person and as she is handling (or not handling) her more recent horrors. We also have some interesting developments on Dora's end as she matures and looks at her sister through a more critical lens._

 _Let me know if you have any thoughts, suggestions, observations. Any feelings on Dora's suspicions? On Cassiopeia's character flaws (of which there are many?) The sisters are interesting because now that they have reconnected and developed a kind of close friendship, there are still strains there and sticking points that neither are really willing to acknowledge. It's been a while since i've heard from any about their thoughts on this story as it progresses, and any feedback is appreciated! Thanks for reading!_

 _tibys_


	9. Chapter 9: Finding Release

Narcissa loved her niece. She loved her niece almost as much as she loved her son, and it was always a joy to have brunch with her.

Narcissa adored the little cafe they went to, the food was impeccable and it was suitably exclusive. Everybody who was anybody fought to be seen at the establishment for its famous brunch, and only the best of the best were able to secure reservations. Naturally Narcissa was there every weekend, with her standing reservations for her and her niece.

Most weekends she would catch up on her niece's work, perhaps gossip a little about whatever minor scandal was rippling through the ministry, and she would pester the girl to go either shopping or to the salon with her with mixed success.

She smiled softly at her niece, pleased that they were able to have such a great relationship despite everything. And that she had grown into a well adjusted and frighteningly clever young woman.

She often wondered how things might have been if Bella had never been seduced by the Dark Lord. If she could have raised her daughter, if she could see her now. She'd be proud, she knew it. She also wondered what her own mother would think of her granddaughter. She'd be horrified by her tattoos, short hair, and the casual mix of muggle clothing with wizarding robes. That would've made Bella even happier with her daughter.

But Bellatrix wasn't there and she had chosen duty over her daughter. So it fell to Narcissa to make sure she was raised right and was nurtured the way a child should. She wasn't there for Cassiopeia when she was a child, and she'd be damned to make that mistake ever again.

But the thing that she loved most about her niece was her insistence to spit in the face of the traditions of all those who came before her. She took the rather unorthodox role of not only taking over the family accounts, but to grow them, invest in various burgeoning business and markets— diversifying and actively adding value to the Lestrange and Black fortunes— the first person to do this in generations.

She wasn't content to take the easy road that many before her chose- she didn't want to spend the family fortune away on material possessions and experiences. There had been many in the Sacred 28 who fumbled their fortunes and spent themselves into poverty and destitution. The Lestrange brothers had been content to do just that before the Dark Lord gave them purpose, and the fortune was not what it could have been.

She was ashamed of her name and her past. Narcissa understood why she had taken that filthy muggle name. She didn't have a better choice at the time. She had been a child then but now she was a grown woman and it was time for her to grow up and accept the truth of who she was.

But she had to approach the subject carefully. It was a sensitive for her.

"Have you given any thought about what you'd like from your future Cassiopeia?" It was best to start broadly.

Cassiopeia looked surprised at the question, pausing as she served herself some more tea. "I suppose so. I will need to find another fellowship soon. Is that what you mean?"

"I meant something a bit broader than that dear. Have you ever considered taking back your family name? You are already acting as a Lestrange in all but name, handling the family accounts and building businesses with their money. I understand why you took...that name, but you are a grown woman now and your heritage is well known. Why not reclaim your rightful place at the helm of the Lestrange family. Change the narrative." She watched her niece close off and her walls go up.

"Why are you bringing this up now? How could you ask me that? Is it so bad that I'm a Tonks?" She asked quietly

It had always bothered Narcissa that her niece was a Tonks. She hated that man and everything he represented. He tore apart her family, taking away her sister and sullying her niece with his filthy name. Of course she hated that name, she hated that it lingered, that they had reproduced, and that more would probably come.

Cassiopeia was so much better than him. She was worthy of a far greater name, that of a noble and powerful family.

She had to show her that, delicately. It was a touchy subject, her niece loved the blood traitors. They had been there when Narcissa was not. It was an unfortunate truth she had to live with.

"You are more than a Tonks Cassiopeia. You can accomplish more than a Tonks ever could. I mean that very literally- you have resources that they couldn't dream of. You could change the image of the Lestrange name."

She crossed her arms and sat further back in her chair, making herself small once more.

"Nothing good can come of the Lestrange name." She said lowly, staring at the table.

"You can do good. You are doing good, you're helping wizarding businesses, putting money into industry. You can even start some charities if you like. And you are doing this with the Lestrange money. You owe it to your ancestors to do the work in their name, and not some muggles." Couldn't she see the insult? In letting a muggle family take the credit if work done with Lestrange money.

"What do I owe my ancestors. The money in those vaults is blood money Aunty. The fortune comes from stealing and murdering, swindling good people out of the fruits of their labour. I should return what they stole to the rightful owners. Or maybe I should pay reparations to those the family has hurt." Her face was twisted as she spoke harshly in a low hiss.

Narcissa frowned at the girl, she had overstepped her boundaries and pushing it now would only cause the girl to pull away.

She did understand, truly and if the circumstances were different she probably wouldn't be touching the subject.

But-she was afraid. Nervous about the future. The Dark Lord was dead and gone, and yet his Mark was darkening on Lucius's arm. It seemed like an omen. And she rather preferred that Cassiopeia had the protection of her name.

"Just think about it dear. That's all I'm asking." She said softly, gently resting her hand on the girls leg.

She changed the subject, chatting lightly about different rumours around town, the latest gossip, the weather and changes she was making about her house. She talked about Draco and his friends at school, even his first girlfriend.

Cassiopeia was quiet and picked at her food and politely declined any post brunch activities. She did however confirm that they were still on for next weekend.

She planted the seed in Cassiopeia's mind and for now, that was the best she could do.

And Cassiopeia did think about over the next few days. At first the idea had seemed repulsive, and she was frankly shocked at the audacity of Narcissa to even suggest such a thing, knowing what she did.

But then she got thinking about how her actions reflected on the Tonks name.

She didn't care much about building up the Lestrange name but she did care about sullying the Tonks name and she worried that she was doing just that.

She had killed a man. Most people would never know that fact given it was a state secret. But that didn't make it less true.

The fact that it happened didn't bother her so much as the how it happened. She had coldly, methodically cut that man down. And she had enjoyed it. She was more like her parents than she cared to admit.

Maybe Narcissa was right. Maybe it was time to officially take over the family mantle in a more public way. After all her true identity was common knowledge and a well known fact amongst the wizarding world thanks to her ex boyfriends family—who despite more than a few years passing still took time to spread rumours and accusations about her around society.

And yet—changing her name felt like a betrayal to Ted and Andromeda and admission of guilt on her part. It was a difficult decision and one she wouldn't make lightly.

She'd think about it. It was the best she could do.

Xxxx

Sometimes, with no reasonable cause or explanation, Cassiopeia was just angry. She would wake up with a slow burning rage in her veins and every little thing would set off a response that was disproportionate to the situation. That morning she cracked her bathroom mirror because she ran out of toothpaste.

Logically she knew it was ridiculous. That nothing had happened to cause her to be so angry. She just was. Another wonderful gift from her parents she figured.

Calling out a day of work because of her slow burning hatred made her even angrier. Whatever this was, she would be damned if it interrupted her life and livelihood.

So she went to work, sequestered herself away in the basement and got absolutely nowhere with her spells. The best she managed was exploding a few objects.

In the end it had been a thoroughly rotten day at work, which fed the anger in her belly.

She felt it pulsing through her system in beat with her heart, pushing against her skin, an itching energy that ached to be release. She gnashed her teeth and tried to meditate, tried every mental exercise she could think of, but nothing seemed to work.

Frustrated at her inability to control herself she stormed out of work and straight to the nearest wizarding pub, hoping a pint or three would alleviate her tensions. And if that didn't work then perhaps she'd pick a fight with some unsuspecting muggle. Sometimes boxing just didn't cut it.

To make her day worse this particular pub, chosen at random, was frequented by her least favourite wizard. A Caecilius Jovius who immediately abandoned whatever girl he was seducing to bother her.

He was like a dog with a bone. There was no stopping him once he was on her and she was loathe to admit defeat and retreat to another establishment. She would not be driven out of a bloody pub by a mercenary.

And so she wallowed in her own foul mood, taking out her anger and frustration on the man with biting comments and thinly veiled insults.

The bastard bloody loved it, grinning sharply at her dark mood and feeding it with his own brand of cutting humour

His eyes gleamed with a cold delight and he poked and prodded her, pressing all the right buttons to stoke her anger and frustration until she was shaking and in a cold sweat trying to contain herself.

She felt the emotions swirl and pulse throughout her body. This went beyond her shitty day at work, and beyond her dislike of Jovius. This fury was in her blood, it was the part of her she tried so hard to hide, to lock away. And with a few well placed jabs Jovius had unleashed it to the point that she wasn't sure she could contain it.

Sensing the inferno of hate and anger, Caecilius pushed himself closer to her, his eyes reflecting the glee and mania she felt in a fight. He was getting off on this and that made her all the more angry.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, sighing contently when he felt her quivering in rage, and pulled her close against him. He breathed her in, his lips centimetres from her ear and laughed lowly.

"So angry Lestrange." He sighed, squeezing her suggestively.

He chuckled when she jerked in his grasp, throwing a subtle elbow to his ribs. He tightened his grip on her, his fingers digging painfully into her waist as he held her against him.

"I can help you with that you know- your rage. We could either fuck," He murmured lowly into her ear, enunciating the word sharply as he pulled her even closer against him and nipped painfully at her ear. "Or we could fight." She could hear the excitement and anticipation in his voice as he suggested the latter.

She was just about to knee him in the balls when the pair were interrupted by perhaps the last person she wanted to see.

"Cassiopeia? Is that you?"

She pushed Caecilius away from her, and he reluctantly took a step back, trying and failing to rein in his own mania in the face of company.

"Dora." She said sharply, adjusting her robes, struggling to control herself. She wanted nothing more than to pound Jovius's face in, she found his presence distracting and she would prefer her sister not see the monster that was lurking just below the surface.

"You must be the sister, Auror Tonks. Cassiopeia here has told me so much about you, Caecilius " Caecilius inserted himself between them, his charming smirk ruined slightly by the manic glee in his eyes.

Tonks recoiled slightly from the man, recognising the look on his face. It was a bloodthirsty glee that was dangerous. The same look Cassiopeia had now as she looked at the man.

"Really? Because she's told me nothing about you. You know Shacklebolt Cass? One of my colleagues. You met briefly last year during that business with the— well you know." She trailed off still glaring at Caecilius suspiciously.

Cassiopeia nodded at the man briefly before returning to her sister. "It was nice to see you Dora, Shacklebolt— But I was just in my way out."

" _We_ were just on our way out." Jovius said, winking at her.

"Right. Are you sure Cass? You could join us if you like?" She suggested, trying to catch her eye.

"Cheers for the invite Dora, but I think I should head out." She said stiffly, glaring at Jovius who smirked back.

"How's Charlie?" Dora asked pointedly between the two.

"Oh yes, the boyfriend. Charlie is it? You know she won't tell me anything about him." Caecilius continued, entering himself into the conversation once more.

"Charlie is grand. I'll see you later." With a nod to the two aurors she wrapped her robes around herself and took her leave of the pub and hopefully Jovius.

The strong grip on the arm and the crack of a sudden side apparition informed her that she was very mistaken. She swung wildly the second her feet touched the ground, the hit landing solidly against Jovius's jaw.

He staggered back a moment, tonguing his cheek curiously before baring his now blood stained teeth in a manic grin and launching forward to retaliate.

What followed was a ruthless fight, inelegant and brutal with neither opponent holding back. Smacks of fists hitting body parts and the grunts of pain were the only sounds the two made.

Cassiopeia was a good fighter but despite her skill she was half his size and the man eventually managed to pin her to the ground, his face dripping blood into hers as he smirked in victory.

She gasped and struggled underneath him, kicking and flailing and he fought to keep her down. What he didn't count on was her ability to reach her wand. With a quick blast she threw him off her into a wall.

The duel was short and savage, ending with Caecilius immobilised against a wall. She collapsed to her knees, releasing Jovius with a wave of her wand before falling forward onto her hands feeling the adrenaline of the fight slowly wear off and the aches and pains across her body flaring to life.

She sat forward like that for a while, her eyes closed as her breathing slowed. She focussed on her injuries, the pains- some sharp and others throbbing deeply in her muscles and used that to center her mind, and her body.

The overwhelming feelings of rage and despair were absent and in its place she found a quiet zen, a dull buzz of contentment and peace humming around her brain.

She only opened her eyes at the quiet huffing laugh of Caecilius, who was laying flat on his back spread eagle on the concrete a few meters away.

He looked awful, his face swollen and covered in blood. And yet he had a wide grin on his face and his eyes shined with contentment

"I needed that," he sighed, wincing as he carefully stretched out. "For such a small little thing you sure do pack a punch. I think you broke a few ribs." He said good naturedly, stretching to grab his wand.

She nodded, gingerly sitting up on her knees, grimacing as fresh pains made themselves known. She had definitely broken a few bones. And had more than a few teeth knocked loose.

She watched Caecilius as he started healing himself, her mind delightfully numb and feeling better than she had in weeks. She couldn't bring herself to feel any of her normal dislike for the man, he had been right in the end. She needed something, a fight was just the ticket.

When he was finished healing himself he gently started to heal her, fixing bones, re-knitting skin and soothing internal damage.

"Not much I can do about them bruises without potions and creams." He said softly, smirking slightly. He was calmer, gentler somehow after the violence.

"I'll be fine," she accepted his hand up and looked around the room in amusement.

There were smears of blood around the floor and on their clothes and skin. The only evidence of violence in the room.

She shared a look with Caecilius and a civil nod she turned to apparate home to take a shower and change her clothes, and perhaps soak in her bathtub.

Xxx

"Has your sister ever mentioned that man?" Kingsley asked, a small frown on his face as he watched the man follow his colleague's sister out of the pub.

Dora looked troubled as she stared off in the direction the pair had gone in, her hair darkening at the roots.

"No. Never." She said simply, "I've never seen nor heard of him before."

Kingsley took a sip of his drink, wondering if he should interfere in what was clearly a touchy subject.

"I know him. Or of him. His reputation at least." He said, deciding it was best for her to have some inkling so she could perhaps warn the girl.

Dora turned her attention to Kingsley, her eyes sharp and her frown deepening as she noticed the naked worry in his face. "Who is he?"

"A mercenary." He lowered his voice as he looked around for anyone who might be listening. "I have only heard rumours mind you. Of a department that works in the shadows and views the laws very loosely. An intelligence service within the ministry that works for the International Confederation." He was whispering by the end of it.

Tonks stared at him, hardly believing what he was saying. It sounded like a conspiracy theory at best— it was simply preposterous. No way a department like that could operate, the ministry was such a small place and filled with gossips. Keeping a secret like that would be impossible.

"Perhaps you should lay off the drink Shacklebolt" she joked nervously.

He shrugged leaning back and taking another sip, "all I know is that Caecilius Jovius has been the center of many an investigation by us and Inter-AUR—murder, kidnapping, extortion, grievous bodily harm and every time we try to look into accusations the order comes from the top to drop all charges and release him. It's even happened to me. Your sister should be careful around him— some of those cases..." he trailed off with a shiver.

Dora's hair darkened completely as she mulled over the troubling information, wondering if there was some truth to Kingsley's suggestion. If there was such an organisation protecting its members at the ministry it would explain why Dora was never able to piece together Cassiopeia's whereabouts a few months ago.

She knew Cassiopeia had the capacity for violence, and she worried that man would only bring out the worst parts of her, the darker parts she knew lay dormant in the girl.

She needed to talk to her sister. Sooner rather than later.

Xxxx

"Hey," Dora said softly giving her sister a little smile when she answered the door.

"Dora," Cassiopeia sighed, reluctantly opening the door wider to let her sister in. "If I move will that stop you from coming by unannounced so often?" She asked tiredly, walking back to her sofa and continuing the puzzle of electronics she was working on.

"You should move, I wouldn't mind the challenge actually. What album is this?" She asked curiously, making herself at home at Cassiopeia's coffee machine.

"Nevermind. It's from an American band." She muttered, carefully soldering a component to a circuit board in front of her.

"I like it. Merlin what are you doing with that muggle stuff Cass." She asked curiously taking a seat with her fresh coffee.

"I'm building a personal computer. Or trying to, from a few different scraps. I'll probably give in and buy one, this is bloody difficult and it's been ages since I've built anything." She grumbled, putting down the soldering iron and giving her sister her full attention.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" She asked sarcastically, smirking at her confused expression. Despite having a muggleborn father, Dora really knew very little about muggle things, including electronics.

Ted would find this brilliant though. She should move the project to their house in the future.

"Oh nothing really, thought I'd drop by. You seemed upset in the pub the other day and thought I'd see how you were doing."

Dora almost missed the way Cassiopeia tensed briefly at the reminder, but she was looking for it.

"You caught me at the end of a particularly rotten day," she acknowledged, "I'm better now. Nothing a good nights sleep couldn't fix." She said casually, turning her attention back to the pile of electronics in front of her.

"Glad to hear. Curious fellow you were hanging out with. What was his name? Jovius? How'd you two meet?" She took another sip of her coffee, wondering how much it would cost to get her own machine.

Cassiopeia stilled once more, her eyebrows furrowing as she took in her cousin. "Are you interrogating me?" She asked lowly, giving her sister a sideway look.

"Of course not! I'm not allowed to take an interest in your life or friends?" She responsed defensively.

Cassiopeia gave her one more hard look before continuing her rummaging through the pile in front of her.

"We met through mutual acquaintances. He helped me recently with testing a spell." She muttered, carefully pulling apart something.

"Is he a spell expert or something?" She continued

"He's more brawn than brains. Dora why are you questioning me about Jovius. Just spit out what you really want to ask." She said irritably.

Dora sighed, she supposed she hadn't been very sly in her questioning, she might as well be honest about it. "He has a certain reputation as a shady character. Dangerous even. And I was worried about you, I mean Merlin you left with him. You're not the most self aware person sometimes..." she trailed off realising too late she had offended the girl.

"Not the most self aware? What does that mean?" She asked indignantly

Bollocks.

"I just mean, sometimes you have a way of finding yourself in bad situations without realising it. I just wanted to make sure you were OK and weren't involved in anything Jovius is. " she raised her hands to try and placate the increasingly angry girl in front of her.

"What exactly do you think he is involved in?" She asked

"Shady things. He's been accused of hurting, even killing people. And that we can't get anything to stick but I was worried about you." She repeated.

"And you were worried I was working with him. Bloody hell Dora are you still thinking about my research trip months ago? Have you been investigating me this whole time?" She dropped everything now and turned her full attention to her sister, "it is. You have an awful poker face— you still think I hurt someone. Un-bloody-believable." She huffed, standing up to pace angrily.

"There is no investigation about you Cass, stop being so paranoid. Am I not allowed to be worried about you when I see you getting cozy with a mercenary of all people?"

"We are not tied up in the same things Dora. I only know him as a passing acquaintance. Thank you for your worry and your warning. Now drop it." She said lowly, turning to change the record as it stopped.

"Fine. How's Charlie?" She said, attempting to change the subject to something more lighthearted.

"He's good. Busy. I'm going to Romania next weekend to see him."

"That'll be fun."

"Yes."

Silence reigned between the two, Cassiopeia fiddling with a record sleeve and Dora fiddling with her cup awkwardly.

"Do you think I deserve the Tonks name?" She spoke so quietly that Dora almost missed the question.

"What do you mean deserve? You have our name, that's a fact." She said

"It's something my Aunt Narcissa said got me thinking...do you think I'm taking away from the family legacy? A stain on an otherwise good name. You clearly think I hurt someone. Do you think I deserve this name or my birth name?"

It was times like this when Dora was reminded just how different Cassiopeia's upbringing was. How different her worldview was.

"Legacy isn't a thing I think about Cass. We don't have a legacy, a history. There is no value ascribed inherent to being a Tonks. Not in the magical world, not like the Blacks or the Lestranges. It's not a thing we put value on." She started.

Cassiopeia jerked her head, glaring at her cousin over her shoulder, "every family had a legacy, something they stand for, take pride in. Even young ones like yours. Do you think I take away from that?" She asked sharply.

"I don't— I guess if you look at it that way my dad was the first Tonks, and he managed to convince a woman who grew up in a classist and prejudiced world that love was worth more than riches, than society, and even family loyalty. He showed my mother that people were people and that blood or heritage meant nothing.

Dad is a brilliant man who puts others needs above his own and when he he sees someone who needs help or a home, will be the first to offer his help. He loves you Cass, and is chuffed you took our name back then, that you became part of the family." She said sincerely.

"Your parents are wonderful idealists. But I'm asking you Dora. You are a Tonks by blood, who recognised your father's kindness and selflessness and continue in the same vein as an auror, bent on helping people in need. You who suspects the worst of me. Do I deserve to be a Tonks or a Lestrange?" She was unusually severe, focussed entirely on Dora and her answer. It was clear her opinion mattered greatly to Cassiopeia, and that this had been a thing she has been pondering for a while.

"I don't— Cass you deserve to be happy. And if you're happy as a Tonks then that's great. If you're not, then you shouldn't have to remain so." It was a non answer and she knew it.

Cassiopeia sneered at her sisters cowardice and rephrased her question. "Let's say I did kill someone. Even if it was in self defence, let's say I took a man or woman's life. Would you still be proud to call me a Tonks. Or would you prefer me to be a Lestrange."

Dora felt cornered and cold, wondering if her sister was suggesting what she thought she was. Was she confessing? Was this more than a hypothetical?

"Cassiopeia if you did hurt someone, I can help you but you need to be honest with me." She said carefully, afraid to spook the girl.

It was the wrong thing to say, she scoffed and turned away angrily, wiping tears from her eyes. "I told you I've committed no crimes and yet you don't believe me. Why? What have I done to make you think that?" She asked bitterly.

Dora's stomach lurched as she saw the open vulnerability on her sisters face. "We've been through a lot Cass. I used to hate you, a lot. If you had asked me that question a few years ago I would've said unequivocally you were a Lestrange.

But none of that matters. Names matter about as much blood matters. I care about you as a person, whether that's a Lestrange or Tonks. And I'm worried about you.

It's not that I don't believe you, I truly want to. But I also know you, and I know you've never properly spoken about or dealt with your childhood. Living with the Lestranges, being poisoned and taught Merlin knows what by Bellatrix. I mean, she took you to battlefields! Gave you her wand, taught you how to use a knife. How could you not have issues?"

Cassiopeia was quiet and stilled as her sister spoke. "How did you know that." Her voice was soft, a stark contrast to her eyes which were sharp, watching her sister very closely.

Dora swallowed. "You must've told me Cass." She almost flinched when her sister jerked her head in irritation.

"Dragons dung. I've told two people about my mother's lesson and you are not one of them. How did you find out? Who told you?" She was quiet as she spoke and almost unnaturally still. Too still. Too intent. She seemed almost dangerous.

"I—Er well..." Dora cleared her throat nervously, "I'm not— lessons? What lessons?" She asked, trying desperately to find a reason for her inexplicable knowledge.

"What my mother may or may not have taught me is none of your bloody business. How did you find out about them." She was getting louder and her expression was getting darker.

"I- I read it. I read it in files that were kept about you after you left the Weasleys." She said finally. She might as well come clean about it.

"Files," She said, finally looking away from her sister, a series of emotions flickering across her face. Anxiety, fear, and anger before she settled in a cold mask of feigned indifference. She smirked bitterly, still looking away from her sister, staring intently at the ground in front of her, her eyes shining.

"Bloody Order. Couldn't mind their own business. And just what do these files say hmm," she looked up at her sister once more, her eyes burning and her smirk widening. She looked half mad, distraught and trying desperately to hide it.

"I don't—" she started, reluctant to tell her just exactly what they wrote about her. It was clear the revelations were not welcome news for the girl.

"Oh go on Dora. You were so happy to mention it earlier. Poisoned was I? What would you know about that?" She said, bitterly wiping away a stray tear.

It was too much for Cassiopeia, she had worked so hard to push those memories away, she locked them up, buried in the back of her mind the way Snape had taught her all those years ago.

They weren't locked up as tightly as she had thought and they pushed against her barriers, fighting to come out.

And it wasn't just the memories. It was the emotions as well, bubbling up from deep in her chest, a swirling mass of shame, fear, pain, and anger. A deep burning anger that crawled up her throat, choking her.

"Cassiopeia. Are you alright?" Dora was close. How did she get so close? She flinched away from the hand on her shoulder.

"I think you should leave Dora." She said quietly.

"No." She responded immediately.

"Dora get the fuck out of here." Cassiopeia hissed, squaring up against her sister, trying to intimidate the girl, scare her, to push her away.

Dora took a step closer rising to the challenge, jutting out her chin defiantly as she looked Cassiopeia in the eye.

"I'm not leaving you alone Cassiopeia. You can't push me away." She said loudly, puffing out her chest and narrowing her eyes.

Cassiopeia wavered uncertainly, surprised and taken aback by the girl's boldness.

"You can tell me anything Cass. I will only ever help you. You need to get that through your thick skull. No more pushing me away. No more." She said forcefully, reaching out to grab Cassiopeia's hands.

Cassiopeia felt the anger and rage build up in her, hot and thick. She felt it under her skin, in her blood as all the memories and emotions were temporarily set free. She closed her eyes, finding it too disconcerting looking at Dora directly and tried to take a deep breath, tried to bury her hurt and to get a bloody grip.

Dora tightened her grip on the girls hands, squeezing insistently. "Open up Cass. Don't bury your feelings."

Cassiopeia closed her eyes, hating the few tears that leaked out as she finally managed to wrestle back a little control.

Breathe

In and out.

Breathe.

Lock them away. Put them behind her barriers, bury them.

She turned inward, struggling to clear her mind, slowly clawing her way back to stability.

When she finally came back to herself she was in Dora's arms, hot tears staining her cheeks.

"You need to talk about it Cassiopeia. Burying away the darkness isn't healthy. It doesn't have to be me, but someone. Awful things happened to you and it's okay to not be okay." She said softly, squeezing her sister tightly.

"I'm fine Dora. I'm handling it. It's under control." She pulled away, coughing awkwardly, carefully wiping her face.

"You're not fine Cass." She sighed, giving her a sad smile. "And I'm staying here tonight. Get me your duvet."

Cassiopeia shook her head in irritation, she should bloody well move. Somewhere where Nymphadora couldn't find her. She was getting too comfortable.

She grumbled loudly, gathering bedding for the girl, complaining good naturedly. But when she laid in bed, alone in the darkness, listening to the deep breathing from her sister in the other room, she was glad for the company.

Dora had come close to knowing everything, suspected the worst, and still she stayed.

Perhaps all the Tonks were idealists.

Xxxx

Cassiopeia spent as much time Charlie as possible-normally going to Romania to visit him, or a few times they met in France as a compromise.

She felt like a different person when she was with him-she felt lighter, freer. She had never realised the low level of anger and frustration she felt on a daily basis until it disappeared with him. It had always been there, a low hum of negative energy, sharpening her paranoia and suspicion of everything and everyone around her. She was always on edge, always ready and afraid that someone would recognise her or the darkness that she very carefully buried.

But with him, those feelings evaporated. When she was with him she wasn't a Lestrange or a Tonks. She was simply Cassiopeia.

They rarely spent time in cities or even the wizarding world, they would instead go hiking and camping, finding remote places of the world filled with beauty where they could be together. Cassiopeia was never keen on the great outdoors, but Charlie loved it, and she loved seeing him happy-she was inclined to go camping and rambling with him because he enjoyed it, and she enjoyed sharing that with him.

Just like Charlie would go with her to various museums and libraries along the way, letting her soak in the historical magics of the world, the different customs and archaeological inscriptions of wizard kind past. He would go to shows with her in the muggle world-live music in often run down dive bars. He liked going through her musical collection, and loved when she would ramble about one album after another-patiently taking in her running commentary on different songs and their meanings.

One night while they were laying under the stars, wrapped up in each other under a charmed blanket in a frigid mountain range in Romania she told him a little about her childhood in the muggle world-when she built Castle Lestrange and would often sleep there, taking in what little stars could be seen in a mid sized city in the Midlands.

He listened quietly, never asking the difficult questions-why did she sleep there and not at home-and held her close. It was on nights like those where they could talk about everything and nothing.

This particular night he brought up the topic she had been both anticipating and dreading.

"Have you told Mr and Mrs Tonks about us?" his voice was quiet, his eyes turned upwards towards the milky way, his hands wrapped around her tightly as she lay on his chest.

She was quiet for a moment, before sighing. "I've told Dora but I haven't told them yet. Have you told Mr and Mrs Weasley?" she asked just as quietly.

He traced patterns into her back, "Not yet. They'll be thrilled you know. I hoped we could do it, together. What do you think?"

"I think that's brilliant." she sighed, frowning at the nervous knot that was appearing in her stomach at the thought. It wasn't that she didn't want to tell them about their relationship, or that she wanted it to be secret-but telling the family made it somehow more real, more public.

"What about your Aunt Narcissa." he smirked, looking down at her, "What do you think she'd say?"

Cassiopeia relaxed as she thought about her Aunt's reaction, laughing slightly at the mental image. "She'd be rather put out im sure. She's figured out im seeing someone, but I think she knows that she probably wouldn't approve of whoever it was so she hasn't asked for any details. Ignorance is bliss in this case. At least you're a pureblood-that's something." she said

"A muggle loving pureblood." he quipped, pressing a kiss to the top of her head softly.

"A muggle loving pureblood indeed. My blood traitor," she sighed, stretching slowly, smiling up at him. "Fancy a swim in that big lake?"

He grinned her, his eyes glinting mischievously, "I didn't bring my swimming costume." he said softly, she smirked back as him, pushing herself up "Neither did I," she winked.

"It's glacial melt-it'll be freezing." he warned, sitting up as well, very interested in her proposal.

"Guess we'll have to find a way to warm each other up." standing completely, "I'll race you Weasley!"

"You're on."

They chased each other, each laughing and joking, leaving a large trail of discarded clothes behind them, squealing in shock and joy as they plunged together into the icy depths of the water.

They would come forward and tell the world about their relationship. But for now they would enjoy the time they had in private. They would enjoy each other.

xxx

She fidgeted nervously in front of Amelia Bones as the woman examined the resignation letter in front of her. She had a deep frown on her face as she read it and re read it several times over.

"I don't suppose there is anything I could offer you to stay? Higher compensation?" She asked heavily.

"There isn't enough money in the world that could convince me to stay Ms Bones." Cassiopeia responded, fidgeting in her chair.

She really wanted to like Amelia Bones and it wasn't anything personal about her that fuelled this decision.

"Can you tell me what was the deal breaker for you?"

She shrugged, no harm in it. The woman was smart, she could probably guess being kidnapped and almost killed on the job was not a particularly fond memory. But it was more than that.

"Can you answer a question for me honestly?" She asked in return.

Amelia Bones weighed her request for a few moments before nodding hesitantly. "I can try. Ask and I'll tell you whether I can answer."

It was the best she was going to get she supposed.

"Did you recruit me because of the environment I grew up? With my parents?" Ever since Caecilius has suggested the possibility last year it had always bothered her.

Bones paused once more, carefully considering her response. "I was keen to recruit you because of your record of fieldwork and curse breaking skills," she said slowly, weighing her words. "But I suspect that is not your real question. There are some amongst my superiors who saw a certain... advantage to recruiting those with your background. They were pushing to make you a full agent."

"Death eaters. Or the children of." She said bitterly, slouching in her chair. Amelia couldn't say much but she said enough to confirm Caecilius's theory.

"Yes," She said honestly. "I see how this is problematic thinking which is why I didn't recruit you because of your parents. I recruited you because you are a great curse breaker and we will be losing a valuable resource here. And I can't say I don't understand your decision Miss Tonks. Where will you go now?"

Cassiopeia shrugged. Leaving the ministry meant leaving a sizeable income and resources. "I've been offered part time work at St Mungos, and I expect I'll pick up freelance work. Maybe go back to Gringotts," she edged. "If there is nothing else, I think I'd rather get going Ms Bones."

"Of course," She said standing up and offering her hand. "I am sorry it didn't work out but if you need anything in the future just let me know. I should also remind you of your contract..."

Cassiopeia scowled slightly at the reminder, shaking the woman's hand firmly. She didn't dislike Amelia Bones, but she did dislike the organisation she worked for.

"Thanks for the opportunity Ms Bones. I'm sure we will see each other again."

She felt lighter as she left the ministry, freer than she's felt for months. No more lying, no more clandestine work. Everything was going to be simpler from now on.

Xxxx

Charlie was in London and they were finally going to do it. They were going to spend the weekend together, introducing the other half to their respective families. They were taking Molly and Arthur out to dinner on Saturday night, and Ted was cooking a roast for them on Sunday for lunch.

Dinner with the Weasleys had been awkward, although Cassiopeia was certain Charlie was completely oblivious to the secret looks Molly and Arthur were sharing with each other through the whole dinner.

They didn't know what to think of their relationship, and were a little uneasy about it. They also felt guilty that they were a little uneasy.

It didn't help that the restaurant they chose was nicer than they had expected, and more expensive than the Weasleys were used to. They had dressed nicely for the occasion, wearing what Cassiopeia was sure was their best robes, that were admittedly a little dated and faded. They had insisted on covering the bill, adding to their anxiety about the whole situation as they ordered the cheapest items on the menu.

Charlie kept conversation flowing, completely at ease and oblivious to the unease of everyone else. She adored him for that, smiling at him as he filled silences with stories about work or a few of their camping trips across south eastern europe.

She did have to excuse herself at one point, ostensibly to use the toilet, but to also talk to the host staff about the bill. She be damned if the Weasleys paid for the meal, and set up a tab in her name to cover the charges.

The inevitable interrogation had gone smoother than she expected, Mrs Weasley was almost able to mask the interrogation as friendly questions. Questions that Charlie mostly fielded, explaining how they met five months ago, and how they hit it off immediately. Cassiopeia did chime in when they asked about how often they actually saw each other, telling them that she had taught Charlie how to use a muggle telephone and how they spoke nearly every night and tried to visit each other bi weekly.

At the end of dinner the Weasleys were put out find that Cassiopeia had already taken care of the bill, and made them promise to come over for a good home cooked meal. She wasn't sure they actively approved of the pairing, but they were happy to see that Charlie was happy. And they were pleased to hear Charlie would be visiting the country more, even if it was only to see Cassiopeia

It went about as well as she could have hoped, and she hoped with time their trepidation would ease. She didn't take it personally, she knew they loved her, they would do just about anything for her, and they would always be there to help her. But things were different now that she was dating their son. They loved their children more than anything in the world, they would travel to hell and back for their children, and now she was in a position to potentially hurt one of them.

At the end of the day she was still a Lestrange. A Lestrange who had chosen the Dark Lord over them when she was a child. A Lestrange who held their son's heart in her hands.

Dinner with the Tonks went a little smoother-Andromeda had been overjoyed and Ted tried his best to intimidate Charlie, which went about as well as they all expected. Ted Tonks was many things, but intimidating was not one of them.

There was less interrogation from the Tonks' than there had been from the Weasleys, they had long ago grown used to the secrecy of Cassiopeia's personal life-they still didn't even know where she lived. They were content that she was happy and they were pleased to be included in her life enough to warrant an official declaration of the relationship.

The Tonks didn't know Charlie as well as the Weasleys had known her, so the lunch mostly revolved around him-his job and their relationship. The roast had been pleasant, but they were both relieved when it ended and they were finally able to retreat to her flat in Bristol, back to the quiet where they could just be together without anyone watching them.

Something tiny had changed now that their families knew about each other and she had been worried it would fundamentally change the way they were around each other. She was pleased to see that in private, they were the same as ever.

The more time had passed, the more comfortable the Weasleys grew with their relationship, and the more comfortable Cassiopeia felt being with Charlie in the wizarding world. She was happy when she was with him, and when they were apart during the week she felt the difference keenly.

Being with Charlie she was able to let go of her paranoia, her anger, and general unhappiness. And being away from him made her feel it all the more intensely.

She did what she could to push it away, to distract herself from the feelings, but every now and then she gave in to them, released her anger and frustrations often by picking fights with muggles in run down pubs around the city.

It wasn't ideal but it worked, and for now that was all she cared about.

and for now she was more than content, she was almost bordering on happiness of all things.

A/N a little more charlie and a little more content. obviously everything will change soon. let me know what you think! questions, comments, observations!


	10. Chapter 10: He's Back

Cassiopeia fumbled her key slightly as she tried to unlock her front door, her head was spinning pleasantly from the mixture of alcohol and adrenaline from her night out, her legs burning in protest from the lofty set of stairs she had to climb to reach her flat.

She stumbled into her house, throwing her keys blindly onto a table and gently probing her lip, tasting the slight remnant of blood. She fell into the wall a little heavier than she perhaps meant to, blindly reaching for the light switch.

Her wand was out in an instant, her blood running cold as she saw a figure sitting in her front room, resting in her favourite winged chair. Black greasy hair fell over the side of the chair from here his head was slumped against the wing. It was her professor.

"What the hell are you doing here." She sighed in relief, relaxing once more and lowering her wand to scowl at the unexpected visitor.

"When I asked for your help getting this place, that wasn't an invitation to pop by whenever you fancy." She growled, stumbling over to her fridge and reaching for another two beers.

To rent her flat she had to provide a personal reference and guarantor, especially in light of her renting the place with no discernible place of employment or work history in the muggle world. She had reluctantly asked the only person she knew who had an established history in the world, or at least someone she wasn't related to that had a muggle birth certificate, which was a good start. With a few clever alterations and a well placed confundus she had managed to get a lease.

She paused, uneasy as she really looked at him for the first time. Putting the beers down heavily and reaching for a bottle of cheap whisky instead. He looked awful, he was pale and had a fine sheen of sweat across his face, plastering his hair across his forehead. He sat heavily, his hands shaking and as she looked she could see the faint traces of muscle spasms wrack his body. His breathing was laboured and his jaw was clenched, his eyes unusually sharp and his expression was grim.

"Bloody hell," she muttered, bringing two glasses and the bottle as she took a seat across from him on her couch.

He watched her silently as she poured two measures of the amber liquid. He raised his eyebrows when she paused, indicating for more.

She looked rough, her face was flushed from earlier drinks, the beginning of a bruise was forming on the side of her face and her lip was split and bleeding lightly. Her knuckles were swollen and red, her shirt stretched and torn, all evidence of a fight she must've had earlier.

Satisfied she was finished and ready to listen he took a deep breath, steeling his nerves for her reaction. He had been sitting in the dark, wondering what it would be.

"He's back." He said simply, watching her closely.

He watched a series of emotions flick across her face, confusion, worry, fear and finally horror.

She shook her head, raising her glass to her lips, the liquid spilling over the side as her hands shook. She drank a big gulp, wincing as the cheap alcohol burned its way to her stomach where it sat heavily. She felt sick. Cold. And drunk.

She sat the glass down with a thunk and stared at him.

"Are you sure?" She whispered, wringing her hands nervously, her fingers ghosting over her silver bracelet.

He leaned forward in his chair, glancing pointedly at his trembling hands. "I have been at his mercy for hours. I am very sure ." He said lowly, hating his show of weakness. It was unavoidable however, a natural biological reaction that his willpower couldn't counteract.

"Cruciatus." She said, recognising the symptoms for what they were. She shivered at her own memories of the curse, wishing she could forget the sensations that followed a session. He jerked his head, leaning back heavily in his chair, taking the other glass of whisky with him.

"How?"

"Does it matter?" He growled. "What are you going to do?" He closed his eyes as a particularly violent tremor racked his body.

She swallowed heavily, hating how her eyes burned with frustrated and angry tears. She shrugged shaking her head wildly, avoiding his eyes as she searched her apartment, as if the answer was hidden somewhere in her walls. "What can I do?" She felt wild anxiety overtake her system, the clawing feeling in her chest that signalled the beginning of a panic attack.

"I return to him or I die. I kill or I am killed. What choice is that?"

He watched her closely, trying to catch her eye. He could see the wheels turning rapidly as she thought through several scenarios, watching as the dread and horror set in fully as a few tears escaped her eyes and slumped against the couch.

"I once told you, years ago, that should he return you would have an ally in me. I need to know, do you trust me? Unconditionally?"

She focussed on him once more, her eyes meeting his finally. Desperation and fear was clear from her expression. His lips quirked when he tried to look deeper and found her mental barriers firmly in place. Good. That was important for what he was about to say.

He continued when he saw her short nod. "The way I see it, you have four options. You could flee- prolonging your life shortly before he found you. You could stay and fight- and action that would almost certainly see your life end, albeit heroically and perhaps pointlessly.

You could join him, give yourself over wholly and become the witch your parents envisioned. You would be quite formidable and a valuable asset I am sure, perhaps even the thing that tipped the odds in the war that is coming."

He paused, taking a log sip of his whisky, relishing the pain as it went down. It was truly horrible stuff. He considered his next words, weighing the odds mentally. What he wanted to say was a gamble, and it was his life on the line, he felt his wand up his sleeve and hoped that if it backfired, he would draw faster than she did.

"Die, die, or become a monster before probably dying. What is my fourth option?" She was slightly hysterical as she listened to his frank observations. She appreciated that about him.

"Do you believe in his cause?" He needed to hear her say it, before he could suggest his plan.

"Of course not." Her response was automatic as she wrinkled her face in disgust and horror.

"You want him to fail." His voice was low. It was a dangerous statement, he watched her closely.

She was silent for a long minute, her eyes darting around the flat as if looking for any other witness to this conversation, hoping she was not being set up. He was one of them, He could've sent him to recruit her.

Trust. She had to trust him unconditionally.

"Yes." She could barely whisper it as a fresh bolt of anxiety shot through her making her feel ill, waiting for a punishment to materialise.

He nodded, apparently satisfied with her answer and took another long sip from his whisky.

"You could join the Order and fight him outright. You might survive. Or you could work against him from the inside. Mitigate damages and work as an informant." She had to strain to hear him, his voice was so low. It was as if he was afraid that saying it aloud, that the mere suggestion would result in their immediate death.

In the wrong company she understood that it meant exactly that. "Spy. You were a spy. That's what you did in the first war." She never knew how Snape had gained Dumbledore's trust but she knew he must've done something for him and the Order to receive his absolution.

Now she knew. He had been a spy. A double agent. He didn't say anything, he didn't move, she wasn't certain he was even breathing. The more she processed the words the more she understood his trepidation. She literally held his life on her hands, should she tell anyone about his suggestion, he wouldn't be just killed, he would be made an example of. And she would be rewarded. Handsomely probably.

"You are either the stupidest or bravest person I've ever met. Probably both." She breathed, shaking her head. He relaxed slightly but she noticed he still had his hand near his wand, he hadn't survived the first war by being careless after all.

"What makes you think I can pull off something like that? How did you manage that?"

"With great skill and care." He said stiffly, wincing as another lance of pain shot through his body.

She stood up and began pacing nervously, thinking through the implications of his suggested course of action.

"They would need valuable information. Information from his inner circle." She mused, "I would have to take his mark. I would have to become one of them. Prove myself." She said, trying to still her trembling hands.

He nodded, silent.

"I would have to prove myself to him, show him my value. I will have to hurt people. Kill them. I would have to become everything I hate." She sounded miserable as she continued. He remained silent, waiting for her to reach a conclusion.

"But, perhaps I can save some. A few. And maybe end this war. But would that offset the damage id have to do?" She paused in her pacing, her chest heaving with the onset of a panic attack.

"How? He is so powerful, how can I keep such a secret from him? How is that even possible?"

"I have a plan, if you are willing to undertake such a task. A plan I've been devising for a few years should he ever return. You will have to delay your return to him, risking his ire and punishment, but it is necessary." He settled into his chair, mentally preparing his next monumental task of explaining his plan and convincing her of its value.

"You've been planning or Dumbledore?" Her eyes were sharp as she turned in him, still trembling with anxiety and suspicion.

"Dumbledore does not know I am here." he said lowly, shifting uncomfortably. He had promised her he would help her. He trusted no one else to ensure her safety for this war. Not even the great Albus Dumbledore.

She reluctantly took a seat once more, wringing her hands as he laid out his plan.

The tight knot of anxiety still twisted in her chest as she took in his plan. He had to stop at several moments to allow for her mild panic attacks as she processed his words. But in the end, once the initial unravelling into the fits of panic had played out, he was mostly confident she could do it.

She had to. Or it would be the end of both of their lives.

He trusted she understood the implications and she would conduct herself as needed. She trusted that the actions he claimed were necessary were indeed in their best interest despite outward appearances.

He stayed until the early hours of the morning, dozing off in her chair as their preparations waned and exhaustion claimed his mind. When he finally summoned the strength to leave he returned back to the castle to greet his other master.

Cassiopeia for her part wrote a letter, cursing for the first time that she did not have either a floo connection or an owl. She would have to send it in the morning, in the daylight where everything was so much more real and permanent.

It was a simple two words, hastily scrawled on a parchment of paper. She had to wait to send it the next day at work, through the Floo.

Two simple words that would inevitably hurt the recipient. Two words she thought she would never have to say to him, but expected to hear in return.

 _It's over._

She moved that night. She had a few properties owned by her parents that were not currently being rented. Nobody would be able to find her.

Not her sister. And certainly not Charlie.

Lima could, She was the only one with a list of properties owned by the family. But Lima equally wouldn't tell anyone. She was good at keeping secrets. She was paid well enough to do so.

Everyone would be safe. Nobody would be around when they came for her. If they came.

She couldn't wait until morning. She needed to send it now. And so she grabbed her cloak and decided to accomplish two tasks in one go.

It was late when she knocked on the door of the Tonks residence, or early depending on how one looked at it. It was Andromeda who answered the door, her eyes heavily lidded with sleep and wearing a ridiculous set of pajamas that Ted had bought her as a joke last christmas. They were covered in twinkling little stars and anthropomorphic half moons. She loved them.

"Cass," she yawned, looking up and down the street in confusion, "Is everything alright?"

She couldn't resist it, she lurched forwards and hugged her tightly, her throat feeling thick as she tried to live in this moment. She wanted to remember this for the rest of her life.

"Cass?" she sounded alarmed, taken aback by her niece's unusual display of affection. She could count on one hand the amount of times Cassiopeia initiated hugs with her. "What's going on," she returned the hug, feeling more awake as her alarm increased.

"I need to use your floo," she said, her voice wavering slightly as she pulled away.

"My-Cass it's the middle of the night." Andromeda said weakly, still grasping her nieces shoulder.

"I really need to use your floo?" she amended, sniffing loudly and squeezing past her aunt into the house.

"Who'sit 'Meda?" Ted called sleepily from upstairs.

"Cassiopeia Ted." She called up.

Cassiopeia heard the thump as Ted rolled out of the bed upstairs and came downstairs, looking both alarmed and worried.

"'Siopeia?" he yawned widely, taking in the girl with concern. "You alright?" he asked, eyeing her critically, frowning at the bruise forming on her face from her fight.

Merlin, her scuffle in the pub felt like ages ago now, not a few hours.

"I need to use your floo," she said once more, leaving the couple in the hallway as she went to the living room where their fireplace lived.

She swallowed thickly and cleared her throat as she sprinkled in some powder, sniffing loudly as she sent her letter on-Dragon Life Refuge, Romania.

"What were you sending Charlie?" Andromeda asked quietly, watching her closely from the doorway.

"A letter. Nothing to worry about," Cassiopeia sighed at the concern in their eyes. They always were concerned about her, every since the day they met. They didn't even know her and were worried about her.

She had put them through alot, she had fought with Andromeda, screamed at Ted, run away from their house forcing them to spend months looking for her. They had to deal with her behavioural issues at school, her fights with Dora and everyone else around her. She had been an awful child in their household, always pushing them, always trying to get them to show their real face-to have them admit the mistake it was to bring her in.

And they never did. They never broke, as she screamed they would talk rationally, when she ran they came-they never gave up on her. When she tried to make them hate her, they responded with love and kindness. When she woke them up with her nightmares, they sat with her until she went to sleep. They gave her a safe place, a second chance, and their bloody name.

And now-now she had to give all that up. Prove them wrong and become somebody they could be ashamed of. They wouldn't love her in a few months time. They would see they were wrong in their assessments.

"I love you two...you know that right? I owe you so much, you have been there for me just-for a while." she wasn't going to cry. That was ridiculous, she needed to be strong, she needed to push them away, push them out of her life.

"We love you too kiddo," Ted said softly, sharing a look with his wife. They were deeply concerned and unnerved by her behaviour.

"I just-I bought you a place. A thank you gift, it's in the south of France. A small place, in Marseille, a loft more than anything but it's in the old town, Le Panier, you'll love it. I think-I think you should retire you know? Go there, soak up the sun, drink some wine. There is this little bakery, just down the road-it's beautiful." she said, struggling with her throat closing up. They had to leave while they still could. They had to go away.

"I'll have my solicitor send over the information tomorrow. But you deserve it, take a holiday-rest." she needed to leave as well. She couldn't do it-she couldn't push them away. She had tried for years in earnest, and doing so now would make them cling all the more.

"What is going on Cass?" Andromeda said lowly, paling slightly.

"It's safer for you there. Nobody knows about it-I bought it through a shell corporation last year after- well after I came into some money at work. I haven't broken the rules with the family fortune, so you don't have to worry about that. You speak French right Andromeda?"

Andromeda shook her head, dread filling her stomach. Something was seriously wrong, something spooked her niece and she was terrified.

"I've er, I've gotta go now. Please go to France, maybe not now, but soon." she said, trying to push past them.

Andromeda stopped her, pulled her into a tight embrace, her blood feeling cold in her veins, understanding somehow that she might not see the girl for a while.

"What's happened Cass?" she whispered, alarmed at how tightly the girl returned the embrace.

"I don't think I can make it to the cinema anymore Andromeda. I'm getting awfully busy at work," she could hear the thickness in her voice, the unshed tears and emotion.

"What about the arcade kiddo?" Ted asked softly, feeling strangely overwhelmed with the whole situation.

She pulled away from Andromeda and hugged Ted just as fiercely, "I'll be too busy for that too-but play a few rounds for me in France yeah? I didn't check if there was an arcade there-but im sure something can be arranged." she was crying now, quietly, as she squeezed Ted for all she was worth.

She had been there for too long. They might be looking for her. Being with them put them in danger.

" _He's_ what's happened." It was Andromeda who guessed it first, her suspicions confirmed when the girl shuddered in Ted's grasp, the quietest sob escaping her.

"France is brilliant this time of year. A little hot-lots of water to take a dip in. Lima will send the paperwork over. I have to go now." She reluctantly pulled away, Ted looked alarmed, confused, and a little shocked. She looked at Andromeda who looked grim, her eyes reflecting the truth.

Cassiopeia nodded slightly, Andromeda knew. She knew better than anyone what was going to happen. She was a Black afterall.

"Thanks for everything. Er-and the floo. It's late-I better get to bed." She left quickly, leaving Ted bewildered and Andromeda feeling hollow.

She punched a hole in her wall when she got home, relishing the throb in her hand-perhaps she broke a knuckle. She swore and tried to get to bed, tried to pretend this was all a bad dream.

She barely slept and she forced herself to go to work the next day. She had to show that everything was ok. That she was normal, that the world was normal.

She brought her Walkman to work the next day, finding music helped keep the panic at bay. It kept her from the edge of breakdown.

She listened to one song over and over again, finding the lyrics and chorus and chaotic sound particularly fitting.

Crisis.

She turned up the volume until it drowned her thoughts and her emotions and attempted to focus on her work.

Normal. Normal. Normal. Normal.

The droning of the words echoed throughout her brain, a mantra to get through the day.

Normal. Normal. Crisis. Normal normal normal.

She rode the waves of panic and fought her instinct to flee. She breathed through her anxiety and steeled her mind.

Normal. Normal. Normal. Panic.

She jumped when she saw her basement door open, pushing off her headphones quickly to give The interrupting intern what she hoped was a convincing smile.

"Alright Miss? Mister Malfoy is here to see you if you have time." He said politely.

She froze for a second, her smile chilling.

"No time today. I'm working on a time sensitive project. Please give him my apologies and let him know I will reach out when I have time."

The intern nodded and shut the door.

Panic panic panic

Normal.

He was here for him. On his orders. She knew it.

But she wasn't ready to face him. Not yet. She needed time.

She blew up two spells before the end of the day. Artfully avoiding everyone around her, desperate to appear normal. As if it was a regular day and not the first day of her death sentence.

She collapsed in her new flat, scowling at its cold walls and hollow hallways. The place was grand and dark, devoid of any personality and comfort.

She closed her eyes and practiced, organised her mind, controlling her emotions. She meditated for hours until her fireplace roared to life admitting a dark figure.

She had to practice. She has to be convincing otherwise she would die a very painful death.

"Legilimens," Snape never asked if she was ready. She needed to be ready at all times. She needed to be steel.

It took two weeks for her panic to abate. Two weeks of living in fear that he would come for her. Two weeks to realise something about the Dark Lord.

He wouldn't chase her. He wouldn't claim her. He shouldn't have to. She had already pledged herself to him, years ago. She would come to him.

And if she didn't then she might as well be a traitor like all those others who deserted him.

Lucius wasn't trying to contact her on his orders. He was trying to contact her to warn her of his expectations and his growing ire.

She knew he was not a patient man, and every day, every week she waited his ire would grow.

But she wasn't ready, not yet. She needed to be perfect in her occlumency before she rejoined him.

For now she pretended that he did not exist. She espoused the ministry line of Potter and Dumbledore were liars.

It worked. People believed her. Surely if the daughter of the Lestranges, his most loyal followers, said he wasn't back then potter must be delusional.

Quietly she prepared herself for her imminent return, waiting for the word that she was ready or the circumstances that would thrust her into his arms.

Avoiding Lucius was one thing-Avoiding Dora was significantly harder. She was on the hunt, repeatedly showing up at her work and was repeatedly turned away by a concerned Lionel Spavin who sent on the message that she was busy. She was working on something unstable. Or that she wasn't there.

She appreciated Spavin as he covered for her, and she didn't dare question his motives for doing so. He had been a Slytherin too, she was certain he had some sort of inkling of the truth in the world, but he had yet to bring it up and she was not in any rush to either.

Dora however had experience tracking Cassiopeia, and this time she wasn't being so clandestine about it.

She cornered her leaving St Mungos, waiting directly outside of the door, grabbing her roughly and throwing her into an alleyway. Cassiopeia tried to fight her, tried to apparate away only to find Dora had already cast anti-apparition charms on the alley way. She had prepared for this.

"You moved." Dora said sharply, pushing her sister against the wall.

"Is that illegal? Because I think this is." Cassiopeia pushed her sister away roughly.

"You've been ignoring me." She said darkly.

"Needy much? I've been busy." she retorted.

"What are you going to do? What is your plan." She asked lowly, her eyes still darting around.

Cassiopeia jerked her arm out of the young Aurors grasp, scowling at her. "I don't know what you're talking about Dora. Now if you'll excuse me," she muttered darkly.

"Don't play stupid with me Cass. Mum and Dad told me what you said when you went to see them. They are worried sick about you. I'm worried about you. Don't pull away now." She plead, blocking Cassiopeia's path to freedom.

Cassiopeia glared, the girl was persistent. She would find it endearing if she wasn't so irritated with Dora.

"Dora, I'm busy. I don't know what you are on about."

"You-know-who is back. I know that, you know that. I want to know what your plan is? You have options." She dropped her voice even lower, leaning close to Cassiopeia.

A hot flash of anger and irritation pulsed through her body, she clenched her jaw and curled her hands. "Just what options do you think I have Dora? What do you think you know about this? My life is over. The person you knew is gone. It's been grand and all but things are changing. I have a choice to adapt and live or die horribly. Deal with it." She hated how her eyes burned as she spoke harshly to her sister.

"I will not deal with it Cass you bloody idiot. You are my family, my sister, I care about you and I will not let you throw your life away." She pulled her even closer, looking more serious than she had ever seen her. "There is an organisation, led by Dumbledore. We can help you, protect you..." Cassiopeia couldn't help the sharp laugh that escaped her throat as her face turned into a condescending sneer.

"Dumbledore. You want me to put my life in Dumbledore's hands. You want me to work with his bloody Order. Keep dreaming." She scoffed, "and I am not a Tonks anymore-I filed the paperwork to reclaim my family name. We are cousins, nothing more-those are the facts." She said harshly.

"Can you at least tell me where you are staying these days? I've gone by your flat nearly a dozen times to find it empty." She said seriously.

"Don't go There Dora. I've moved. Leave my flat be. Leave me be. I'm not safe to be around." Her eyes were dating down the alleyway nervous. She lived in fear of the inevitable.

"So that's it. You've changed your identity and you'll go back to him? Turn your back on everything you stood for?" Dora crossed her arms, glaring angrily at her sister.

"Look Dora, if I could help you I would. I will. I'll try at least. But Dumbledore can't protect me, he won't so long as I have this— ask him yourself." She brought her hand up and pushed down her sleeve revealing the bracelet.

"If—if we can find a way around that would you join? Help the order?" She lowered her voice even further.

It was ridiculous for her to think she could find a solution. But in the off chance—"Perhaps. I won't commit to anything more." Cassiopeia whispered it, a cold sweat breaking out across her forehead as she said the words, paranoid that someone would hear her. That _he_ would hear her.

"I'm worried about you, i'm worried about what you might do." Dora said sadly, pulling her in for a tight hug.

"What do you think i'll do Dora. I go to work and I go home. Dumbledore is delusional and so is Potter. You need to get a grip on yourself" she said a little louder, just in case anyone was listening.

"I don't want you to join him. Mum's said you don't have a choice really." She said lowly, pulling her tighter against her.

"Andromeda knows how it is. It's what I was born to do Dora. I never had a choice. I'll be fine, it's a world I know well." she tried to reassure her sister, she patted her on the back, reluctantly relaxing into the hug.

"When?" She asked softly, so softly that if she hadn't been speaking in her ear she would've never heard it.

"I don't know. I...im not sure. He can't summon me and I've made myself scarce. For now he is lying low, letting the ministry do his work for him. But the longer I wait, the angrier he'll be. I just—I don't know. I'm afraid Dora. He's something else, powerful and deadly. It's hard to look away." She felt her throat closing as she spoke, fresh tears welling in her eyes. "I've gotta go Dora. I'm sorry" she started to pull away, but was stopped once more.

"Charlie's been looking for you." She said softly. Cassiopeia paused and kept her face carefully empty, putting her newly trained occlumency skills to the test.

"He shouldn't be. I think I made myself very clear." She said stiffly.

"Really? Because he doesn't. You just sent him a letter with nothing else written in it. The boy needs closure."

"Dora we had a long distance relationship for like 8 months. Boy needs to move on. I have." Sure she missed him, but the world was different now, she had to be different. In a different time and place maybe things would've worked out between them but as it was they were better off apart.

"I gotta go Dora. Please stop looking for me and leave me be. It's not safe anymore."

"I'm not going to abandon you Cass. You are family and that means something." she called, Cassiopeia grimaced slightly disapparating quickly to several dummy destinations before eventually making it to her new flat.

Dora was relentless and it was going to get her killed.

Xxx

It was lonely, her new life. She lived in constant fear of being discovered, she worried if the Dark Lord would grow impatient, if he would send someone for her, or order her death.

Her only visitor was Snape, who came by most nights to practice, to train her to deceive the Dark Lord himself. She spent all of her free time practicing, pushing herself and her mind to the edge to survive the upcoming war.

Snape kept her in the loop.

The Dark Lord rarely spoke of her, at least not in his company. Only once did he hear her name, at a meeting early on when he questioned Lucius about her.

Lucius stuttered through a non answer and was punished for it. The Dark Lord never brought her up again.

Her sister had joined the Order of the Phoenix, recruited by Alastor Moody. She argued on her behalf nearly every meeting. He found it annoying.

Though to be fair he found most things annoying. Dumbledore was against it and so was Snape. They all knew about the bracelet her mother had created, she was a security risk. But it never did stop Dora.

She never realised how much time she spent with her friends and family before. Now that she had pulled away she was left with an alarming amount of free time. She spoke to Lima more, keeping her solicitor close as they worked to bury her charities-they had to ensure that no one would ever trace the money.

She also bought Lima a place in Belgium, a gift for years of loyalty and hard work. Mira was a muggleborn witch, clever and passionate, she needed to be protected when things got bad.

But that was the most alarming thing of all. Nothing had changed in the world. Not really.

People went to work every day, they went to the pubs, and went out with friends and family oblivious to the monumental changes in the darkness. The newspapers became gossip columns, spreading stories of Dumbledore's paranoia and Potter's mental breakdown. Fudge was elected best dressed wizard by the Daily Prophet-a strong and fashionable leader who was unafraid to stand up against rumours that would divide the public.

She went to work every day, she helped people, she unravelled curses, and kept to herself. She was always waiting- terrified of the day the Dark Lord would come for her, but even she was beginning to lose the paralysing fear in her day to day life.

She hated her house-a Lestrange property in Kent. She hated the local village and the gentrified poshness of the muggles. She hated the art on the walls, she hated the furniture, and the gardens. It was a quaint little place-and it was filled with her mothers clothes. She spent as little time there as possible.

She passed her time instead in the muggle world. Drinking. Always drinking. Occasionally fucking. But mostly drinking until she passed out. Sometimes she'd fight, if she was feeling particularly frustrated or angry or upset. She even had run ins with the local bobbies who brought her in after particularly vicious beatings.

Not that they could hold onto a witch.

She was walking a dangerous line, the last thing she needed was to have the Aurors bring her in for fighting with muggles. But she found it hard to care in the moment. She found it hard to care about most things.

Snape of course berated her, but even he had to admit her skill with occlumency had grown that she was even able to fend him off reliably whilst off her face.

Dora stayed away mostly, not to say she wasn't watching. Cassiopeia could feel her stalking, she could feel the concern and alarm radiating off her cousin as she tailed her through the night. She felt her frustration when Cassiopeia would lose her in a crowd.

She stayed away, Dora did, until late January. She tracked her down in a pub that night, Cassiopeia had been careless and was half a dozen pints in when Dora appeared at her side. She looked alarmed and concerned, murmuring in her ear, "it's going to be alright, we have everything under control Cass. I want you to know that." she helped her up and tried to pull her out of the pub.

"Sod off Dora, my tabs still open," she mumbled, trying to fight off her sister.

"I can't do that Cassiopeia." she said grimly, awkwardly reaching around to her pocket to throw a wad of cash at the bar.

"Lemme go," she muttered now struggling to get out of her grasp.

Nymphadora was a fully trained auror, when she wanted to, she could restrain just about anyone-even Cassiopeia.

"You're coming with me." she shivered when the cold air hit her face, feeling both more alert and even drunker.

"What'd'ya mean i'm coming with you, fuck of." she grumbled, now starting to struggle in earnest against her sister.

"Cassiopeia Meissa To-Lestrange. I am placing you under the care and protection of myself, Auror Nymphadora Tonks as ordered by the Ministry of Magic decree 35 subsection 4 paragraph 2. An Order of Temporary protection has been granted in your name and you are to remain in my custody for 72 hours." She spoke officially, "This Order of Protection can be served either in our detention facility at the Ministry or we could convene at my apartment which is under the surveillance of several other aurors."

"The bloody fuck-Order of Protection my arse." She struggled, wincing as Dora shifted her grip to put pressure on her joints.

"Don't make me take you in Cass."

"What I need is some protection from this bloody Auror brutality here. This is harassment."

"Two hours ago there was a breakout of Azkaban prison where 10 high profile inmates escaped and are currently at large. We have reason to believe that you are at immediate risk from two of said inmates. You do not have a choice in this Order of Protection. For 72 hours you will remain in Auror custody." She was back in her Auror voice, readjusting her grip on her sister who was now slumped in shock and terror.

"No-Dora fuck off-I cant-You cant be here. I-I need to go." She fought harder, feeling the cold metal of her bracelet against her wrist.

They were free-she was free. She was coming for her, she knew it, nobody was safe and her time had run up.

"She'll kill you." she growled kicking her cousin in the shins forcing her to curse and hop away.

"Damn it Cass," she hissed in pain, letting the girl go and casting a quick stunning spell before she could disappear. "Merlin, that really hurt. I should properly arrest you for assaulting an Auror in the line of duty. Arsehole," she cursed, roughly pulling her up and apparating away.

Dora reluctantly released Cassiopeia but she did cast a nasty leg locker curse and confiscated her wand, much to her annoyance.

"Dora-you don't understand. She can find me, she can always find me." She was frantic, she had to make the girl understand.

"As of right now you are under the protective custody of the Ministry of Magic Law Enforcement. You are not allowed to go anywhere without a security escort, for your safety. I am the auror assigned to you Cass." She said stiffly.

"Dora, I appreciate what you are trying to do. My father won't come for me, he doesn't care about me. But my mother is different, she's determined, clever, powerful, and psychotic. She'll kill you, slowly, painfully. Please, just let me go now, I can't lose you. Not like this, Merlin not like this." Her head was spinning, she had always feared this day would come, ever since she heard her mother was still alive, in prison, she always knew.

"You said it yourself Cass. She's clever, she wont come for you now, she'll wait for a while, and we'll catch her before then. I don't think you realise just what resources we've been allocated for this search, its unprecedented. There are two Aurors outside right now, they've even brought a few back from retirement. We'll catch them." She sounded so confident, so certain.

"You said exactly the same thing about Sirius Black and where is he now hmm? No-this is much worse." She was finding it difficult to breathe, finding it hard to think past her blind panic.

It was time. Or almost time. She couldn't hide for much longer, not while her mother was free.

"72 hours Cass. You have to spend 72 hours with me. You better get comfortable, and perhaps sober up a bit."

"Fuck off Dora." She grumbled. Nymphadora for her part rolled her eyes, tossed a blanket at the angry and inebriated girl and ordered her to sleep. "It's the middle of the bloody night-Go to sleep already. We'll talk in the morning."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Love you too Cass."

The next morning she woke up with the mother of all hangovers. She wasn't sure she could move without being sick so she laid real still, focussed on breathing and staying alive. That's what she got for drinking bloody scrumpy like it was water.

It didn't help that Dora was up and banging around the kitchen like a bloody lunatic. She groaned loudly, "Fuck off Dora," she moaned covering her eyes from the onslaught of daylight.

"Merlin you smell like a brewery Cass. Get up- my bath is through there- here drink this." Dora put a pint of water, a few tablets, and a small espresso next to her on her coffee table. Cassiopeia groaned again- reluctantly taking the tablets and downing them with the water. Sitting up she looked around her surrounding, peering curiously at her espresso.

"Did you steal my coffee machine?" she asked incredulously, seeing her nice espresso machine now on Dora's counter.

"Did you fuck off without telling anyone where you lived? I believe it was the least I could do was liberate your coffee machine. I also knicked your records." she said, jerking her head to Cassiopeia's sizable record collection now filling one of her walls.

"Who said you could take them." she asked, feeling put out to see her belongings somewhere else.

"Seemed like fair game to me. Now go shower or something-you smell and we have company soon." She said.

She wandered around Dora's small flat slowly, she had never seen it before-Dora had always come to her and she had never thought to visit her place. It was a long flat above a shop in what looked to be London. She felt strangely hollow as she looked around, the house was filled with knick knacks and photos from adventures she had no idea about, it was filled with trinkets from her life and her personality was sprinkled around. This flat represented so much of her sister and she had no idea it existed until now. She had taken her for granted, and now she would never have the chance to hear the stories behind her belongings proudly displayed. She wouldn't be a part of her life anymore.

She stilled in the doorway when she saw just who was sitting in her living room, her blood running cold.

She swallowed nervously, carefully stepping into the room and looking around for her sister. "she is just outside, you are still under Auror protection."

She nodded, picking a spot just above his shoulder to look at.

"Shouldn't you be at the school?" She asked, edging her way into the room.

"Given the circumstances I thought my presence would be best served here. Professor McGonagall has it well in hand." He said serenely, watching her as she slipped into a chair.

"Perhaps you can convince them that this order of protection is a bad idea," she said lowly, looking now to his brightly embroidered hat.

"Alas your sister is rather set on protecting you. She has been petitioning rather passionately on giving you the protection of the Order of the Phoenix." He continued, watching her closely.

She flinched, recoiling away from him slightly, anxiously twirling her bracelet.

"You and I both know that is impossible," she said lowly, "and you know how much danger Dora is putting herself in by her actions. My time is quickly running out—it's not safe. She needs to understand." She muttered, feeling cold as she examined the situation in front of her.

Nymphadora wanted to help her because she loved her. She was also a fool for thinking she could.

"You've resisted so far." Dumbledore stated, "delaying the inevitable. Why?"

She stared at him, of at least a spot on his forehead, "why delay becoming a monster? Become everything I hate?" She scoffed. For someone so clever he was asking a stupid question.

"There are always options," Dumbledore said, looking very serious now.

"What options?" She asked bitterly. What could she really do so long as she had the bracelet.

"You could help people in danger. You could let us help people." He suggested.

She snorted, crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. It was a typical play on Dumbledore's part and she was beginning to remember why she disliked him so all those years ago.

"You want me to join him and feed you information. How does that prolong my life?" She asked bitterly.

"You would be saving lives." He said simply. She glared at his suggestion, a very typical Gryffindor self sacrificing attitude.

"If we could find a way to break the curse, would you join us?" He asked trying to catch her eye.

She was quiet for a long while as she thought about his question. Betraying the Dark Lord to Snape was one thing. But going directly to Dumbledore? Joining the order? That was a different and more dangerous game.

The Dark Lord must know about Snape's role in the Order, or at least suspect it given how close he worked with Dumbledore.

Perhaps she could pull a similar con on Nymphadora—the sister habit she just couldn't kick.

"I can't go behind his back Dumbledore. He will be watching me, and if he isn't, my parents will." She said

He nodded, looking sad and serious as he gazed at her. "I wish we could help you more, but as I've told your sister, that bracelet—"

"Makes it impossible. I know." She slumped in defeat. Even if she wanted to join the order she couldn't. She'd have to settle on relying on Snape.

"If you need anything, we will try to help if we can," he said sadly

"Right. If you can. Not now but maybe later." She retorted bitterly.

There was nothing left to say. She wasn't even certain why he bothered coming at all. His hands were tied so long as she wore the bracelet.

"If I ever break this curse-there are options right?" She asked quietly, afraid to even hope.

Dumbledore paused, turning to look at her. "Yes, there are options." He said. "Do you think you are close?" He asked curiously.

"No. I've been studying this bracelet for years and haven't unraveled the half of it. But—if I was good..." she trailed off.

The bracelet was part of her punishment for running away. It was put on because Bellatrix couldn't trust her. But if she was obedient, if she could prove that she could be trusted—perhaps that would be enough.

"There are options without the bracelet. Look after yourself miss Tonks" he said softly, sensing she needed time to come to terms with what she needed to do.

"Lestrange," she corrected him. She had filed the paperwork months ago, when he returned. It was best people started using her name.

"Miss Lestrange," he corrected himself, looked older as he said it. He left not long after.

She was quiet when Dora came back in, ignoring her questions, her interrogations, and her demands for answers.

Dora yelled and raged in frustration. Angry at her sister and her unwillingness to respond.

Cassiopeia just stared at a wall angrily, refusing to engage with Dora and planned. She meditated, Dora's wails fading into the background as she reorganised her mind, prepared herself for the inevitable.

She would go to him. Soon. As soon as she was released.

The last day of her detention saw Dora accompanying her to work, a few Aurors positioning themselves outside the hospital. Cassiopeia locked herself in her basement office, with Dora-ignoring the hails from both Lionel and Theo. The rest of the staff pretending to not know her, ignored her existence the best they could. Some friends they had been.

Dora sulked for the whole day, angry, frustrated and too tired to continue yelling. She was also sad, so sad that it broke Cassiopeia's heart.

"So that's it then. Did we really mean nothing to you?" She asked sadly looking at her quiet sister who had yet to show a reaction.

"I love you and your family Dora," she responded finally, quietly.

"Then why pull away? Let me help you Cass. I can be your escort, make it too dangerous for them to get you," She said desperately.

"You're one person Dora. They'll kill you and take me. You need to stop worrying about me, and you need to stop protecting me."

"So that's it then. You are just going to join them without a fight?"

"Yes," she closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. "Eventually yes. I made a promise to the Dark Lord 15 years ago that I would serve him. I was born to be his soldier Dora. He is my fate."

"That sounds like a load of bollocks to me. Fate isn't real and the world doesn't work that way. We'll be following you Cass. Surveilling you. If you do return to him we will know. And we will know where he is at. We can nip this in the bud now." She warned.

Aurors. She'd have to watch out for a tail.

Did they know where she lived she wondered. Dora had picked her up after a night on the town. She had been at her usual spots in the muggle world. Places Dora could conceivably know about.

"As far as I'm aware the ministry does not yet acknowledge he is back." She said lightly, resting her head back on the chair, closing her eyes and thinking.

She had to talk to Snape. He must know where she was now. They had to plan. There was much that still needed to be done before she was ready.

"You and I both know that is dragons dung. We will be watching because of your parents. We will be waiting."

"Isn't the whole point of surveillance supposed to be secrecy, telling me this now really won't help your cause Dora," she wasn't afraid anymore or nervous. She was cold, filled with a resolution.

"I'm warning you because I don't want to arrest you. But I will, I will lock you up in Azkaban if that's what it takes," she whispered fiercely, glaring at her sister.

"Because that's a secure place these days," she murmured, opening her eyes to look at the clock.

"11 hours Dora. That's how long you have me for. Then I'm gone. You can do what you like, whatever you think needs to be done and I'm going to do what I'm going to do." She flipped open her notebook, staring at the familiar spell diagram in front of her. The same one she had been studying for years.

The workday passed in an uneasy silence. And when they finally made it back to Dora's house there was a short 4 hours left before the Order of Protection expired.

"Best get some rest Dora. Get it while you can." Cassiopeia said, snuggling onto her couch, her makeshift bed for the previous two nights.

Dora did not sleep. She did not rest. She watched her sister closely, her face troubled and her eyes shining with anger and frustration. She hated how her vision clouded when Cassiopeia took her leave, hated the way her heart ached watching her sister walk away into the night before disappearing with a small pop without a backwards glance.

Xxxx

She was careful when going to and from her house. She was careful leaving work. Everywhere she looked she saw a different Auror watching her.

It did not go unnoticed at St Mungos. Lionel asked if she was alright and Theo was insistent that she come over for dinner. She didn't know what side of the fence they fell on when it came to the Dark Lord's return but Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange was definitely back.

She brushed them both off, pretending she was fine. That everything was OK. That she didn't mind the auror protection.

She had spoken to Snape. They had a long discussion into the night about her change of plans. He wasn't fully supportive but even he could see the feasibility of it. They plotted together and came to an agreement.

She just needed the courage to go to him.

She came up with excuses, she needed to perfect the method for losing her tail. She needed to reliably disappear. She needed to practice.

And so she drank, using the excursions into the muggle world as a test to her ability to lose her protective surveillance. At least that was what she told herself. She definitely did not have a problem.

She waited too long.

Her head spun pleasantly as the cold air hit her face as the exited the pub. It had been a long night, and she was delightfully tired and light from a night of drinking and revelry in the muggle world, attending a particularly lively basement show. She had finished the night with the better part of a full bottle of whiskey.

The streets were quiet and empty in the early hours of the night, and there was a light drizzle that seemed to hang oppressively over the city. She inhaled deeply, taking in the smells of wet concrete, stale alcohol, and the slight undercurrent of sewage that seemed to pervade throughout her city. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but it was perfect.

She hummed lightly as she stumbled home, wandering down a narrow side street to cut across a few blocks as a shortcut to her usual apparition point. She walked slowly to sober up a bit before apparating, and the cold and rain felt delightfully refreshing. She was relaxed, and her worries had almost all melted away as she lost herself in her fuzzy brain, swaying with the movement of the earth, and to the sound ringing in her ears.

She tilted her head as she heard the scuffle of another late night reveler walking down the same alley way as her, glancing back at him. He was a short and stocky lad, reasonably well built and with the blank look of someone well and truly pissed. Good for him, she knew how he felt.

She continued on her way, listening to his footsteps and how they echoed her own, breathing in the night air, enjoying the way the cold seeped deep into her lungs with every breath. She almost missed the sound of a knife flicking open as the footsteps behind her sped up.

"Oi mate, gimme a pound yeh? I know yer sistah." he growled, approaching her.

"Feck off mate." she responded, glaring at him, her eyes lingering on the knife he held lightly in his hand. It was a small switchblade. But he looked too drunk to do anything truly damaging with it.

"Oi, gimme yer money or ill bust you up yeh?" He swayed, his eyes distant as he struggled to focus on her.

"Look, mate, trust me on this one. It'd be best if you just fuck right off, yeah?" she drawled, turning to face him fully.

"I warned yer," he grunted before clumsily lurching forward with his knife, his eyes wide and his gait unsteady. She grabbed his arm easily plucking the knife out of his weak grip while using his momentum to throw him into the wall.

"This is mine now. Piss off back to yer council flat mate before you hurt yourself." she brushed her jacket, pocketing his knife and kept walking, hoping he would follow her advice.

He did not. She heard him running at her, trying to attack her from behind. She spun, pushing him roughly into a pile of bins lining the alley. He hit them hard, collapsing with an almighty crash and a moan as he clutched his injured head.

"Stay down mate." she spat, scowling at him before turning to continue her walk. She listened to his panting and moaning as he pulled himself out of the pile of rubbish bins.

She heard him scrabbling at something before running at her once more. She spun in disbelief, ready to hit him again when he whacked her hard in the head with a piece of wood he evidently found in the trash.

"Bloody fucking Arsehole" she cursed, spinning with the force of his hit, the world spinning more than it had already been. She shook her head, trying to remain steady on her feet, ignoring the warm sticky blood rolling down the side of her face, struggling to focus on the man. She narrowly avoided him as he went back to hit her once more, managing it only because he was equally drunk.

His face had changed, transformed with a crazed determination, his eyes empty as he swung his weapon wildly. She cried out once more when he managed to glance her arm with the plank of wood, looking around for her own weapon to counter his.

In the end it was unnecessary, he swung with no control or coordination, the force of it throwing him off balance and causing him to stumble from side to side as if the world was rocking like a ship. For him, it probably was.

She rugby tackled him around the middle, careful to stay under his weapon and throwing him to the ground, wrestling the plank out of his hand as he tried to hit her with it once more. Where its size had been an advantage when he was standing, on the ground the plank was too large for him to swing with any real force, and with a few punches to the face she finally managed to grab it and throw it further down the alleyway.

"I. Warned. You. To. Fuck. ing. Piss. Off." she smashed his face with her fist, the world still spinning as she growled at him with every hit. He groaned, his eyes fluttering and the fight leaving him as he began to lose consciousness below her, his face bloody. She threw a few more punches for good measure before crawling off him, happy he had learned his lesson and wouldn't be moving any time soon.

"Bloody wanker." she growled, clutching at her own head, wincing as a sharp lance of pain flashed across her skull. She could feel the blood staining the top of her shirt and scowled, wiping her bloody hands on her trousers. It was an irritating end to what had been a good night.

She walked towards his makeshift weapon lying harmlessly on the ground, picking it up intending to take it home to burn. She would rather not leave behind a bloody plank for the local constabulary to happen across in the daylight.

She made it a hundred meters when she heard the man's laboured breathing once more as he bore down on her, stumbling through his obvious pain and discomfort, his eyes focussed on her with a singular purpose illuminating them. He looked demented, his face black, features slack, and jaw gritted in determination.

It was unbelievable. Bloody unbelievable. She didn't think, a hot flash of rage taking over her instincts as she swung the plank of wood with all of her might, a cry of anger and frustration escaping her as she put her full body weight into the throw.

It connected with a solid thunk, the vibrations shaking up her arm, making it go slightly numb, the sound echoing throughout the night, pushing him into the wall where he collapsed to the ground. She panted, dropping the plank once more as she shook out her arm, attempting to regain feeling, muttering profanities under her breath.

"Are you having a fucking laugh mate? Have you not learned your god damned lesson? Arsehole."

She went cold when she looked at him on the ground, completely still. Too still. She knelt next to the prone figure, panicking when she saw blood pouring steadily from his head wound, puddling beneath him and soaking into the knees of her trousers. Her heart was racing as her hands fluttered helplessly above the muggle's ruined face. She was shaking, her mind frozen in panic as she carefully lowered her face to hover above his nose and mouth, turning her head to look down at his chest, hoping he wasn't dead.

He was still breathing, she felt it tickling her cheek and she saw the shallow rise and fall of his chest. She lifted her face once more, frantically trying to remember any healing spell to try and close up his wounds. The blood was slowing, and she desperately hoped it was because the wound was clotting and not his heart slowing down. She pressed her hands against the head wound, desperate to stop the bleeding, cursing under her breath. Why didn't he stop? She had given him so many chances. She had tried to be nice, she had tried to restrain herself. Why did he keep coming at her?

This was it, her whole life thrown away in just one moment. One stupid drunken moment, she had gone and killed a bloody muggle. Nobody would care that he just kept attacking her, she didn't mean to kill him, she just wanted him to stop attacking her. Why didn't he just bloody stop?

Her mind was frozen in fear and shock when a flash of green light struck the muggle, his whole body relaxing as he exhaled one final time.

Her whole body was shaking as she tried to fumble for her wand which was lying next to her in the puddle of blood she was kneeling in. She spun to face the other wizard, her wand threatening to slip from her hand so slick it was with the liquid.

There was a wild moment where she contemplated attacking the wizard in front of her, so filled with fear and horror, but even drunk she understood it was hopeless. She dropped her wand and threw herself to the ground, crawling away from the muggle and towards the tall figure in front of her, her hands clasped together in front of her, her forehead pressed to the ground, tears leaking from her eyes.

"You always were so smart Little Lestrange." the high, cold voice of the Dark Lord said softly as he looked on with contempt at the scene in front of him.

She remained silent, her eyes screwed shut as she waited for her fate. She heard him come closer to her, the sounds of his bare feet walking across puddles of water in the dark alleyway causing her to cringe and her heart to stutter.

"Nothing to say Little Lestrange? Or should I say Tonks?" he hissed.

She exhaled harshly, her heart sinking. Of course he knew, it would be foolish to think he didn't know everything. She opened his eyes, his filthy feet directly in front of her hands, the hems of his robes mere centimeters away.

"There is nothing to say My Lord beside begging you for mercy and forgiveness for my insolence and willful ignorance."

She shook violently when he laughed, high and cold, "And in all the years you have known me, am I a man known for his mercy and forgiveness."

"No My Lord. I am deserving of punishment My Lord, but I implore you to let me live, let me ser-" she stopped suddenly, a horrible thought occuring to her.

"My Lord, there was an Auror following me, I think I lost him hours ago, but you shouldn't-" she choked, a long, thin tendril of magic wrapping itself around her throat and cutting off her airway.

"Do you not think that Lord Voldemort can not handle one Auror little blood traitor? He is uselessly chasing a figment of my magic across London, we are safe from them for now. But you are correct, chasing down wayward blood traitors is something I normally leave to lessers."

He watched her curiously, she used every ounce of willpower to not fight against his magic, to not claw at the tendril that was slowly strangling her, not even as she gasped desperately, her whole body shuddering in desperation, and not even as her vision darkened. She had accepted this was how she was going to die when he loosened his hold, allowing to take a few desperate gasps of air.

"Thank you My Lord, I deserved that." she said automatically, grasping the hems of his robes and kissing them as her head spun and her chest burned from oxygen deprivation. He kicked her away in irritation, continuing on where he left off,

"When I first returned I thought nothing of your absence little blood traitor, after all you were never marked as one of mine, so you did not receive the call. But then weeks passed and I admit, I grew concerned. I knew you had left your family name for that mudblood, I knew you had strayed from your path, but surely you didn't stray from me?

You avoided your uncle, despite his pathetic attempts to contact you. You hid yourself away from everyone who could bring you back into the family."

She cried, shaking her head, cursing her decisions, "I am sorry My Lord, I did not believe the stories My Lord, I believed the Ministry lies. I should have known, should have remembered your power, and known the truth."

He waved his hand as if shaking away an irritating insect and continued, "You were young little blood traitor, of course you witnessed my power, but I doubt you truly understood it, how could you? No, I expected you would come when I showed but a fraction of the power of my will when I retrieved my most loyal from the very heart of the Ministry. And yet, you still did not come. Do you know why I am here little blood traitor?"

She crawled back to his feet, her face smarting where he had already kicked her once, mixing with the pain the muggle had caused, desperate and terrified for her life. "My Lord, I can offer no excuses for my behaviour, I was foolish and blind to the truth, even in the face of indisputable evidence. Please My Lord, let me prove myself to you, let me serve you, let me fulfill the purpose of my existence. Please My Lord, punish me for my insolence and see that I am sincere." she cried desperately.

He kicked her once more away from him in disgust, "Crucio" he muttered lazily, watching her writhe in front of him for a few long seconds, sighing as he inhaled her screams, before releasing the curse.

"You do not listen well, perhaps that is the first lesson that I will need to teach you." He held up his hand, silencing her from speaking more.

"Your parents are my most loyal, they gifted me their own flesh and blood, promising a soldier who would rise above all others. They gave their lives for me, sacrificed everything in my name, and have been rewarded beyond all others. They alone held out hope for my return, they understood the power that I wield and suffered in my name, never renouncing me.

Where is my daughter? They asked me, eagerly looking for you, the soldier I was promised, the warrior they bred for me. And you were nowhere to be found.

A disgrace who renounced all of the old ways, your own very name and identity. Seemingly poisoned by mudbloods and blood traitors, surrounded by muggles. They are not yet strong enough to hunt you down, though your father begged me to let him. The risk is too high, you were being monitored and were friends with Aurors. I would see to her return personally, as a reward for my most loyal, I would track down their wayward daughter and decide her fate."

She cried, her whole body shaking with the force of her sobs as she grovelled for her life, pleading with a man with no mercy. "I am honoured My Lord, to be in your presence, even if it is the last thing I have ever done. Please, I beg you, if I am to die, let me see my parents once more. Let me explain to them, I did everything to survive, I never truly stopped being a Lestrange. Please give me one chance to prove myself My Lord, to you and to them, look and see what I can offer you." she said desperately, pushing thoughts and memories to the front of her mind, opening her many mental barriers to lay bare all she wanted him to see.

She didn't see or hear him cast the spell, but she recognised it for what it was and relaxed into it, obeying his every command as he placed her under the imperius.

She stopped crying, her eyes drying as she stood and stepped into his embrace, relaxing into his arms as he wrapped one around her waist, pulling her uncomfortably close. One hand resting on her hip and the other curling up her neck and cheek, pulling her face so close to his that all she saw was his eyes and felt his breath rancid against her, his lips almost pressed against the side of her face. She was sweaty, covered in blood and dirt from the alleyway and reeked of alcohol, but if that bothered him he didn't show it. She didn't pull away, she didn't blink, and she didn't fight. This was her fate, she had to accept it or die. And she didn't really want to die.

She felt him in her mind, looking through the memories she offered up to him, his presence filling her skull as his fingers caressed her face and her hip, a slight hiss escaping his lips as he searched.

She showed him the day the aurors came for her, her fighting wildly against Auror Moody, clawing at his eyes as he picked her up to carry her out, before stunning her. She showed him the muggle orphanages, how she had cast the cruciatus against a girl who had attacked her in the middle of the night, how she had cut a boy who had bullied her with a knife, and had threatened countless others. She showed him her fight with Glynn, where she threatened quite seriously with castration, and all of the fights she had gotten into, both in the muggle world and the magical. The crack of Nymphadora's nose echoed across her mind as he watched. She showed him her anger, hatred, and resentment that she buried deep, how she used those emotions to fuel her fights, including the most recent one where she almost killed the muggle who lay forgotten beside them. She showed him Luka, her cutting him down cruelly and methodically with a knife. She showed him her darker interests, the curses she created, late night spent reading books on dark magic, including the one Professor Quirrell had lent her. She showed him how she had lingered on particularly gruesome illustrations, strangely transfixed and enthralled.

He pulled from her mind, humming lightly, pulling her even closer to him as he pressed his forehead into hers, grinning cruelly, "Very nice, but that is not the full story is it my little blood traitor?" his asked softly, before curling his fingers to dig his nails into her bare skin, diving painfully back into her mind, thrashing around and looking for hidden things.

He pulled up memories of her life, Ted teaching her how to ride a bicycle, her laughing and playing games with both the Tonks', helping Nymphadora with her stupid leather jacket, Nymphadora showing up at the pub the day her parents escaped, informing her of the Auror presence. The day she shared hot cocoa with Albus Dumbledore when he found her at the top of the Astronomy tower, Nymphadora begging her to join the Order of the Phoenix. He lingered on this last memory, savouring her panic as he pulled out of her mind.

"As I suspected little blood traitor. Perhaps you are a lost cause afterall. I think i'll let your parents finish you off." he mused, his eyes flashing with contempt.

"Please My Lord," she muttered weakly, fisting her hands in his robes desperately, "look beyond the memories, look at the emotions."

He sneered, pulling her into a full embrace, propping her up against him as he whispered "Crucio" against the shell of her ear, his arms tightening to keep her thrashing against him, savouring the moment.

He did as she asked, giving her one last chance and was pleasantly surprised to find the true emotions behind her interactions. Contempt for the Tonks', hatred for Albus Dumbledore, disdain for her colleagues at the hospital and condescension for the muggles.

He looked further, dragging up memories of the Malfoys, where he found resentment and anger simmering just below every interaction with them. They had renounced him, had saved their own skins and had done nothing to stop her from ending up with the Tonks'. He felt her shame at accepting the Tonks name instead of Lestrange, her reassurance that it was a matter of survival, and that she would know, and take faith in her heritage.

She pushed one final memory in front of him. Professor Dumbledore calling her to his office in her final year, just after the completion of her NEWT examinations and magical education. He questioned her about Professor Quirrell, about his behaviour and mannerisms throughout the year. He finally told her what he suspected, that Quirrell had been an agent of the Dark Lord. He felt her shock, her horror, and her desperate longing.

He pushed her away from him, throwing her to the ground where she landed in a heap, barely daring to breathe as he circled her deep in thought. "Your parents miss you little blood traitor, I have kept their reward from them for too long." he finally said, reaching down to grab her before disapparating.

xx

"Make yourself presentable for my most loyal." he hissed as he threw her into a large bathroom, before locking her in.

Finally alone Cassiopeia nearly collapsed in her panic and terror, her knees were shaking and she was sweating profusely. She briefly wondered if she was having a heart attack, so fast it was it beating in her chest. She surrendered to her shock for a few minutes before finally forcing herself out of it. If she was going to survive she couldn't let her emotions rule her.

She started running water for the bath, testing the temperature as she closed her eyes and reorganised the jumbled mess of her mind. The Dark Lord had not suspected her to be an occlumens, and therefore had not looked for hidden structures or trickery. She put up her usual barriers, strengthening others, and attached more negative emotions pulled from the well of simmering burning anger she kept deep in her chest to various memories. She hid away the most incriminating memories, particularly the ones of her occlumency lessons, deep in her mind with multiple redundancies and fail safes. The Dark Lord would find them if he knew what he was looking for, but the odds were that he would never suspect she was capable of it.

By the time the bath had filled and she had washed all the blood and grime off her she felt recentered mentally, and a little sick about the upcoming meeting. She had nightmares over meeting her parents again, she had spent many sleepless nights over the last few weeks wondering what she would say to them when she saw them. She knew this meeting would not be without a fair amount of punishment, she had grown soft in their absence. Her whole body ached from the two cruciatus curses she already endured, she wasn't sure how much more punishment she could take.

She wondered about their mental stability. Azkaban was designed to drive witches and wizards insane, they had already been a little unhinged but she wondered if they was any sanity left in them. Her stomach roiled when a house elf appeared to inform that they were ready to see her. Quickly drying herself off and cleaning the blood off her filthy muggle clothes she was as presentable as she was going to be.

"Enter." she heard him call after her hesitant knock at the door.

She had imagined this moment countless times, and yet reality was nothing how she imagined it. She thought she would feel hopeless, fear, or hatred looking at the people who had caused so many of her nightmares. Instead she felt strangely full and overwhelmed with an emotion she couldn't quite identify, her eyes blurred as they fell onto the only two people in the world that mattered to her.

"Mum," her voice was hoarse, "Dad," she was no longer walking, instead she was rushing across the room, her arms open wanting nothing more than to feel that they were real, they were alive, and that they were present.

She was seconds away from wrapping her arms around her mother, the subject of most of her nightmares, suddenly desperate to feel the warmth of her embrace. It was a shock when instead of open arms she was met with a vicious slap from the woman, the force of the hit turning her face a full ninety degrees and forcing her to stop in her tracks.

"Mother." she cried, looking down in shame, cradling her cheek and falling to her knees in front of her parents. "Father. Please, forgive-" she wasn't sure who cast the spell, only that she collapsed to the floor, writhing in pain as phantom flames licked her flesh and scorched her throat. She clawed at her body, desperate to put out the fire that did not exist, wishing for release.

When the spell was finally lifted she was covered in sweat, curled into the fetal position, with a sore throat that was hoarse from her cries.

"Cassiopeia _Tonks"_ her mother's voice was waspish as she descended on her daughter, kicking her prone form and slashing her with her wand, angrily whipping her with the end of it. Cassiopeia curled up tighter, protecting as much of her face as possible as she endured her mother's anger, crying and gasping in pain. She would not fight back however, she couldnt if she wanted to live.

She breathed a sigh of relief when her attack finally stopped, Bellatrix's eyes blazing with hatred and panting with the effort. She was weak from her prison term, she was probably only fuelled by anger at this point. Her father had stopped her, glaring down in disgust at the figure in front of him.

"You are no daughter of mine. You are a filthy blood traitor." he hissed, his voice hoarse from over a decade of disuse, but the venom was there. He alternated his attacks with sharp slashes, surface wounds that bled enough to be alarming but not enough to be truly dangerous, and laser point burns. She yelped with every hit, desperately writhing away from him and putting pressure where she could to stem the bleeding, leaving a red smear across the floor as he followed her. But she never drew her own wand, and only tried to make herself a smaller target. It wasn't until he vanished the air from her lungs causing her to choke, desperate for air did the Dark Lord step in.

He had been watching from the corner, standing silently to witness the happy reunion between the family.

"Enough." he hissed, ending her father's spell with a lazy wave. She coughed violently, gasping and clutching at her chest, greedily sucking in air for the second time that evening. She was bleeding from a dozen places on her body, she could feel several bruises forming and her face was swelling from the various kicks and slashes her mother had gotten in. She looked desperately at the Dark Lord who examined her passively, completely at his mercy.

His next words would decide her fate and she silently begged him to give her another chance.

"Your daughter has strayed far from her path, but perhaps she is not beyond redemption. What will you give me little blood traitor."

She painfully pulled herself to her knees, bowing her head to the Dark Lord and her two very angry parents.

"If I may, My Lord, I have one suggestion," she spat a glob of blood to the floor in front of her, finding it difficult to speak.

His red eyes examined her carefully, and she flinched and squeezed her eyes shut when her father snarled at her, raising his hand to strike her for her impertinence. The strike never came, the mans frozen in mid air, immobilized lazily by the Dark Lord, who had eyes only for her.

"Approach Little Lestrange, I am curious to hear what you have to offer me." His voice was soft, dangerous. She fidgeted with her bracelet, her heart in her throat as she crawled closer to the fearsome wizard.

She bowed her head once more, speaking to his feet as she started, her voice quivering in fear and uncertainty. "As you are aware my Lord, I was taken into the Tonks household when I came of age." She tensed when she heard her mother's angry hiss, and coloured, "I accepted their offer out of desperation to get away from the filthy muggle orphanage I was in. I figured the household of a blood traitor was a minor improvement to my situation."

"Get to the point Lestrange. Or should I say Tonks?" his voice was high, mocking.

She swallowed, "Please sir, My Lord, Lestrange. I know them well, especially their daughter—" her mouth moved but she found no sound came out of her mouth.

"How curious, you so freely admit your true parentage now, but when I last saw you through that useless puppet you hid from it in shame. And you had no relationship to speak of with Miss Tonks. You will look at me as you speak." He hissed.

She felt the force of the spell hit her just below the chin, forcing her head up to stare at him. Her cry of shock was audible, signalling that she was free to continue. She swallowed thickly and met his eyes, immediately feeling his presence in her mind, invading her surface thoughts, feeling her emotions, searching for falsehoods.

"She became an Auror my lord, I felt it was, ah, prudent to mend our relationship."

"I grow bored Lestrange." She felt a sharp pain through her head as he warned her.

"Forgive me My lord. As you know Dumbledore has re-convened the Order—" The pain in her head increased ten fold and she gasped in pain, doubling over and unable to continue. She tried to fight through the haze, to elucidate her idea, to bring it to the front of her mind for him to examine.

And examine he did, she didn't notice quite how or when, but the Dark Lord was looming in front of her, forcing her face to his, invading her mind and examining her request.

"You think I, in my infinite power, do not already have an agent in this foolish organisation. I have fooled Albus Dumbledore himself." He hissed, his rancid breath blowing across her face.

"Of course my lord," she panted, "Your man has Dumbledore's trust but no one else's. I have the confidence of several high-ranking members of the Aurors. They stupidly believe me to be a victim, and have invited me into their homes, into their lives. I can go where your agent can not, I can give you a different kind of information. I have spent years ingratiating myself to these blood traitors and mudbloods, gaining their trust in case I ever needed it. I can give you information from the heart of the Order, private conversations and secrets." She choked out before collapsing into a heap, his presence leaving her brain and taking her energy with it.

The man brooded over her suggestion, pacing back and forth.

"Get out." He hissed at her parents, releasing her father from his spell. They scurried away with a few backwards glances, glaring at their disgraced flesh and blood. She would have to work to mend that relationship sooner rather than later.

"It is an interesting proposition you bring me little Lestrange." He mused, his tone was light, contemplative.

"Why did you did not seek the company of the Order when you learned they reformed."

"Many reasons My Lord, I am loyal to you and only you. I could never work against you, I was born to serve you. My place is here, amongst your Death Eaters as your soldier, if you'll have me. My cousin has been keen for me to join, but Albus Dumbledore has forbidden it."

"So you have brought me a suggestion that is an impossibility" his voice turned sharp as he rounded on her accusingly.

"He had forbidden it because of this curse. He worries about the security compromise. If I could find a way to break the curse, he would have no more reason to object my lord." She held her arm out, her bracelet shining in the light. "My mother can remove it My Lord, it is her creation."

He approached her once more, his long skeletal fingers grasping her wrist gently, as he examined the bracelet.

"I remember this well, you sought my help in breaking it once before. I did not see a good reason to help then." His voice was light, almost nostalgic as his fingers wander further up her arm, slowly pushing her robes away from her pale skin.

"You were my servants favourite student, that idiot Quirrell, did you know that?" he continued, easily wrapping one whole hand around her wrist, his fingers overlapping significantly.

"He was my favourite professor. If I had known My Lord, I would have—"

He squeezed painfully, cutting her off, "If you had known you would have been very little use to me. You were a foolish girl then, but now, I see you have grown into quite the young woman. What a difference a few years has made." She winced, her hand beginning to prickle from his rough grip on her wrist.

"I saw potential in you then, and I see you have realised some of that potential in your career but you can do so much more. You remind me of your mother when she was your age. Beautiful, impertinent, and violent. With careful tutelage, a heavy guiding hand, you could be more fearsome than either of your parents." He was stroking her forearm, running his fingers across an open wound her father had cause on her arm, causing it to burn in pain, lost in thought, and she was paralysed in fear and uncertainty.

"Will you let me teach you Little Lestrange? Will you submit to me? Mind, body, and soul? Will you let me mould your mind, twist it and remake it into something beautiful, into something greater? Oh the things I can create with your potential," He inhaled deeply though his nose, lost in thought.

"You said once, when you were a child, that you would pledge your life to me, take my mark, wear it with pride. I trust that has not changed."

It wasn't a question; she bowed her head deeply, "Of course not My Lord, despite my insolence, I remain as devoted to you as I was when we first met, all those years ago. I beg that you allow me to show you that, to prove it to you."

He loosely wrapped his other hand around her bracelet and inhaled briefly, "Witness my power Little Lestrange and know this is only a fraction of it." Her bracelet warmed up, becoming white hot and searing into her skin. She felt it move, as it if were a living thing, constricting tightly, trying to get away from the overload of power the Dark Lord was pumping into it.

He looked at it lazily, the task costing him nothing. She cried out, collapsing in pain, falling into the Dark Lord himself. He wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her against him and supporting her weight, all the while watching with fascination as her cursed bracelet melted and seared into her skin, she nearly retched when the smell of the burning hair and flesh reached her nostrils. The Dark Lord laughed, revelling in her cries that grew into screams as the burning continued to grow in intensity. After what felt like an eternity she felt the molten metal drip off her wrist and land with a sizzle on the floor. He let her drop to the ground, watching in fascination as she curled in pain at his feet, falling in and out of consciousness as the culmination of the days torture finally got to her.

"Do you know what that bracelet truly did Little Lestrange?" he asked, not bothering to wait for her to answer. "Your mother is my favourite for a reason. She built that not only to track her troublesome child, but to be connected to you, to pull from your magic to feed her own. She was always with you while she was in Azkaban, your power, emotions, and magic keeping her mind intact as she waited for my return. She lost herself in your connection, pulling strength and warmth from it. Because of that I have her back nearly intact.

Your father didn't fare as well, his mind is scattered and damaged, but his magic is strong and his temper intact, he can still be useful. Bellatrix was always selfish with her tricks, I can't say I am surprised she kept her little secret between you two. But she doesn't need that connection to keep her strong anymore, she has me. And you don't need her mark on you. Do you know why that is my little Lestrange?"

He conjured a throne for himself and sat gingerly, watching in amusement his gift writhing before him, staining the floor with her still flowing blood. The Lestrange's had done a number on her, physically damaging his latest toy. He had enjoyed watching it happen, but he could be a merciful master, and she had suffered willingly for her crimes.

"Because you will bear my mark and wear it with pride. You are mine little Lestrange, you always have been."

Reaching down he apparated them both to an empty bed chamber, resting her against the pillows and dutifully closing the bleeding wounds her father had left, healing her broken ribs and soothing her fresh burns with a tincture of aloe.

She swam in an out of consciousness in his care, the physical and mental exhaustion taking its toll on her body, but she sighed in relief with every action, her face becoming more and more peaceful as time passed. The Dark Lord found himself filled with anticipation at the opportunity to teach her, and examined her closely as he worked. She had the body of a fighter, well toned and muscled. He examined her knuckles as he healed her disfigured wrist where her mothers mark had been, leaving enough of a scar so she would always remember. Her knuckles were covered in scars and calluses, evidence of the barbaric forms of fighting she preferred. He found no less than four knives on her person as he worked, pleased that she was so armed with her mother's favourite tool. It appeared the early lessons of her childhood had left their impression. He set these delicately aside along with her wand.

Finally when she was whole, with fresh scars glistening in the light and sleeping soundly, he sighed, surveying his gift once more, satisfied.

It was a shame she had strayed so far, but he shivered with anticipation, he could fix her, he would have to be firm with her, there were many more warnings in her future he was sure, but he was willing to help her realise her potential.

She belonged to him, and he would make certain she remembered that always. His fingers lingered on her skin, her face, and neck, he couldn't wait to mark her as his own. The resemblance to her mother was uncanny, and yet there was more. Bellatrix had been well bred and raised in high society, Cassiopeia had been raised in violence, neglected and hated by her peers.

Where Bellatrix had been soft and beautiful, using her feminine ways to achieve what she wanted, Cassiopeia was hard, unusually strong and brash, unafraid of throwing herself head first into battle. Bellatrix was a beautiful sight on the battlefield, her energy, devotion, and elation struck fear into all those who challenged her. Bellatrix enjoyed long, drawn out battles, she was a chaotic whirlwind on the field, difficult to pin and anticipate. But Cassiopeia... she was different. He had only seen memories of her duelling others, but what little he could glean showed him everything he needed to know. Cassiopeia took no great joy in prolonging pain, she was brutal, efficient, and deliberate. No less deadly than her mother, but different. He found it entrancing.

He couldn't wait to break her, to make her into his weapon. He hissed in pleasure as he examined her pale forearm once more, his pale fingers lingering on the spot on her arm that he would claim. She had left it free of tattoos and marks, saving it for him, he was certain. Soon, she would be his. Another weapon for his ascension. With a final satisfied smirk, he left her to rest, his head full of all of his plans for her.

 _a/n One of my longest chapters ever and the moment I know i've been waiting for! Several of these sections were some of the first things I ever wrote for Cassiopeia. I thought long and hard about what she would do and how she would react with his return. Ultimately she prolonged joining him as long as she could-perhaps a little too long and spiralled in denial and fear looking for escapes in substances. I also thought a lot about Voldemort-he doesn't quite trust her but he is hopeful. We will see some greater interaction between the two, but he definitely has some wicked plans for her. Let me know what you guys thinK! I know a few were looking forward to this moment, and I am desperate to hear peoples thoughts! Like i said, ive been sitting on this for like a year now and I can finally ask for opinions. Questions, critiques, and comments! Also its gonna get hella dark._

 _tibys_


	11. Chapter 11: Re Programming

Cassiopeia flinched away from the hand that gently woke her, curling herself into a little ball, shaking in fear. She was exhausted and sore, but all things considered, not in a as much pain as she should be.

"Shh Cassie, it's alright. Mummy is here now" she heard the gentle voice of her mother as she pressed her hand against the shaking girls head.

When pain wasn't immediately forthcoming she hesitantly looked up at the woman, her eyes wide.

"My dear, sweet, disobedient daughter" she sighed, sitting on the bed. "You know I had to punish you darling. But the Dark Lord honoured you by healing your wounds himself. Come, I want to see my daughter, it has been too long."

Cassiopeia was covered in a cold sweat and her heart was racing. But her mother seemed calm, lacking the crazed energy that preceded violence. She uncurled at her mother's insistence and allowed herself to be pulled up.

Cassiopeia felt warm and uncomfortable standing in her mother's scrutiny, adrenaline coursing through her system and yet struck by paralysis.

"They said you were something of an expert in spell theory," she mused tracing the runes hidden in her tattoos. "Protection, healing, strength, peace, obfuscation." She read aloud, following the spell patterns.

"And what creatures, thestrals mingling with oh- what is this?" She paused on a screaming mask on her inner bicep.

Cassiopeia coughed uncomfortably, her mind flashing back to that awful day. She hadn't intended to get that moment immortalised in a tattoo, she had been sketching it for her report when one of her muggle friends saw it and insisted on tattooing it on her.

"A Lich's phylactery of sorts."

She hummed, tracing the symbols on the mask, "Yes I had heard you faced one at the age of 18. Impressive that you are still here. But of course why not, you are my daughter after all. When I was 18 you know, I had already been marked, I had become the first woman to become a Death Eater" She smirked and continued her examination.

"My mother would have been scandalised if she could see what you've done to yourself. You've shaved your hair off darling." She sounded amused.

"You're mom?" Cassiopeia had never thought about her grandparents before. She had never thought of her mother as a child who had rules to follow.

"Oh yes. She was a hag of a woman, you would've hated each other most probably. Very traditional woman. She'd of had you married by now, someone respectable no doubt. Pushing out little pureblood babies." She scoffed.

Cassiopeia fidgeted nervously, was her mother leading into something?

"But you're not scandalised?" She finally asked hesitantly.

Bellatrix laughed so suddenly Cassiopeia flinched. "Of course not, You are my daughter, you are going to be something much greater than a breeding mare." She grinned, a calculating gleam in her eye as she grasped her daughters hand, squeezing it firmly, brushing her fingers across her scarred knuckles.

"Oh Cassiopeia you've made many mistakes in my absence, but I'm here now, there's nothing you've done that we can't undo together." Cassiopeia swallowed nervously, dread filling her. This was the moment she always feared. They made fun of her, told her she was paranoid, that it was impossible but here she was, being pulled onto a couch by her mass murdering mother who was promising she was never going to leave her again. Her life was over.

She turned into her mother's embrace, wrapping her arms around the woman, hating herself and the tears welling in her eyes as she squeezed her mother tight. Being around her, hearing her voice, taking in the familiar smell of her shampoo and perfume-it brought her back to a sense of home, of her early childhood, memories of craving her mother's love and suffering under her punishment.

They spoke for most the morning, Cassiopeia telling her mother about her life, at least the parts she knew the woman would approve of. She talked about the orphanages, about Hogwarts, her job, interesting spells she's come across. Bellatrix listened patiently, twining her fingers through her daughters curls.

In all of her nightmares, her most vivid memories she never remembered her mother like this. She was calm, almost a normal human being.

It was a revelation, that this woman could be more than the infamous criminal and most loyal follower of the Dark Lord. Here she was a woman very much like Narcissa. Clearly well bred, intelligent, and curious. She wanted to know her daughter, everything about her. She wanted to hear stories of her time at school, she wanted to know about her interests, her favourite foods and what she liked to do in her free time.

Bellatrix wanted to know who she was as a person. She fingered the scar where her bracelet once stood-the only marking of its place and sighed.

"This was possibly the best piece of magic I ever created," she said sorrowfully, looking at the scar curiously. "Even the Dark Lord himself had to burn it off of you. Only I could've released the spell harmlessly. It sustained me you know, connected us-even in Azkaban I could feel you, when you were angry or upset, or particularly happy." she sighed wistfully.

"It saved me," Cassiopeia whispered, she had an idea of what the bracelet did, and the Dark Lord confirmed it when he removed it from her. But to hear it directly from her mother was something else. "I was in a bad situation, and it saved me." She had heard her mother then, heard her speak to her.

"I know," Bellatrix was equally quiet, the gleam of insanity appearing in her eyes as she recalled the day. "That was when I knew you had figured out the true extent of the charm. You stopped trying to break it then. Don't look at me like that Cassie, of course I felt your pathetic attempts at breaking this curse." She teased, her eyes sparkling.

"You killed that man, the one who hurt you. I felt it, I could feel your anger, your bloodlust as you got your vengeance. You feel it too, the euphoria, the joy in violence-it's like a drug, the exhilaration as you exert your power over another." She looked crazed as she spoke about the feeling, a feeling Cassiopeia was very familiar with. "You'll do great things for the Dark Lord Cassie, great things indeed," she whispered, pulling her daughter close.

Cassiopeia felt sick and certain she was right.

Xxxx

He came to her like a dream in the middle of the night.

She wasn't sure when she woke up or if there had been anything in particular to cause it. She just was awake and aware of him.

There were two chairs and the remnants of a fire burning, the embers glowing a deep red, lighting the room just enough to illuminate his form.

He was different this time. Taller, thinner, more inhuman and yet he radiated power, charging the air around him.

 _Join me._

She heard the words whispered in her mind, the only indication it was real was the incline of his head. An invitation. A command.

She got out of bed and slowly made her way towards him, her mind flashing back to the first time she ever met him. He had been drinking then, and seemed so much larger then.

She was grown now and he was much more frightening now.

She kneeled before him, bowing her head and trembled in his presence. He seemed amused by this, leaning forward resting his elbows on his knees as he took drank her in.

She was shaking like a leaf in his presence, terrified and overwhelmed and she nearly flinched when he reached out to cradle her chin. Slowly he pushed her head up, she kept her eyes averted, focussed on his hand, his wrist.

"Look at me."

It was the softest hiss, closer to that of a snake than a man and caused chills to erupt across her body.

She looked at him. Locked black eyes with red.

He was everywhere and everything. He filled her skull with his presence as his hand tightened on her chin. She was powerless, completely enthralled by the man in front of her, totally at his mercy.

He took his time with her- going through her mind memory by memory, learning all of her secret desires, her shameful secrets, and her quiet yearnings. He saw her fears, her vulnerabilities and her weaknesses. He lingered at some memories, and tossed others aside.

She wasn't sure when he withdrew from her mind, she only registered a change as he released her chin and sat back, his hands steeped as he examined her.

"You do not believe in my cause little Lestrange." He stated simply.

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, making eye contact once more. "Does it matter if I believe? I was born for you my Lord. I belong to you." It was said simply and she forced her resignation and acceptance of the fact towards him.

She showed him how hopeless her situation was, and helpless. She was no longer going to run from him. There was no point in it.

He dug deeper into her mind, no longer being gentle. He tore savagely through her memories, sneering at the private thoughts she had. She found him distasteful and thought his followers were nothing more than common thugs or rich aristocrats that preferred to leave the messy work for the help.

She was afraid of him and yet found him mesmerising. A horror she couldn't look away from. Her mind was filled with thoughts that would've gotten many others killed.

And yet at the very core of it, the burning nucleus of her being he saw the truth. Resignation mixed with bitter self contempt.

Self loathing and a steely conviction. She believed she was a monster. That her penchant for violence and curses was written into her very fabric of being. She believed that the only reason for her existence was to cause pain and chaos in his name. She thrived off of violence, lived for it, and got lost in it-often leading her to do monstrous things. She hated herself for this and she was resigned to her fate. Accepting it with a hollow hopelessness that pervaded her being and fueled her rage.

She would be faithful not because she worshipped him like her parents. She would be faithful because she believed that she was put on the earth to be his weapon. To use as he pleased.

He was satisfied with that and oh did he have plans for her. The longer he spent in her mind, examining her psyche, understanding her better than she did the more captivated he was with her. She was ruthless, obedient and bloodthirsty. She didn't fawn over him like Bella did and she never would. But she would kill for him. Unquestionably.

"You grew up in Orphanages—muggle ones. Tell me little Lestrange were your caretakers religious? Did that make you go to bible study?" His voice was high and mocking.

She coloured under his gaze, thinking back on her time in the muggle world. Yes. Her first group home had a pastor come in weekly to talk to the kids and hold bible study—she had been forced to go until she made enough of a nuisance of herself proving she was more trouble than she was worth.

She didn't need to tell him. He was still there, in her mind, watching it work.

"In their superstitions, they have an angel, Gabriel who is the left hand of God. An avenging angel who destroyed empires in his name. His weapon to carry out his will." He sighed, brushing her hair out of her face, looking deeply into her eyes, entranced by her mind.

"Is it true Little Lestrange? That you are mine? Will you fulfill every task I give you, regardless of your personal feelings? Will you kill in my name even if it disgusts you? Torture for me even if it makes you sick?" His voice was so soft, and he was still in her mind.

Again she remained silent. He knew, he could feel her hatred, her revulsion at the very idea. He also saw her acceptance of her fate.

Yes. She would unquestionably follow his commands.

"I have plans for you little Lestrange. Big plans. You will be feared above all others, perhaps even more so than your parents. I will teach you, shape you into my weapon. My flaming sword, my left hand." He pushed images into her mind, visions of her bloody on a battlefield, standing over the bodies of his enemies. A warrior, a vengeful demon who punished all those who dare defy him.

She felt sick.

"Sleep now Lestrange. You will need your strength tomorrow."

He watched her as she crawled back into her bed, picking up a glass of amber liquid, making no move to leave her room.

Xxxxx

Cassiopeia woke with a small yelp to a sharp stinging pain in her side, her body immediately shying away from the phantom weapon digging into her side. She sat up quickly, her hands already searching for her weapons, her knives and wand, whatever came to hand first to defend herself.

"Looking for those?" her father sneered, gesturing to the bedside table where her personal weapons were located, his wand still pointed at her. His eyes were dark as she remembered, gleaming with a righteous anger as he took in the young woman in front of him.

"Up, now. You are needed." he grunted. He watched her closely as she re-armed herself. It was clear he didn't trust her.

"Father." she said cooly, turning to the man who terrorised her so callously for most of her early life.

"Daughter." he returned, never once lowering his wand.

The two examined each other closely, taking in the changes the years had brought, sizing each other up in case they ever needed to fight. Azkaban had not been kind to him, and he looked half mad as he glared at her.

"I am pleased to see you father. Truly." she said finally, bowing her head in respect for the man.

"I am disappointed in you. The Dark Lord should have killed you for your insolence. Look at you, muggle clothing, that hideous artwork across your body, and what in the bloody hell have you done to your hair? You look nothing like a proper pureblood woman should, and you act like a self righteous blood traitor. You are a bloody disgrace and will remain so until you convince me otherwise." His clutched his wand tightly as he spoke, his anger rising with every word as he took in his daughter, in his eyes a traitor to the cause.

She clenched her jaw as he took his verbal abuse, lowering her eyes in the way all pureblooded women should in the face of their elders. Her father wanted her to be subservient, he wanted her to be like another pretty thing on the sidelines, something to be seen and not heard.

Her father was too old fashioned for her taste.

"I acknowledge your opinion father, and I accepted the punishment for my indiscretion." she started meekly, the picture of pureblood womanly submission.

"But you forget, I am my mother's daughter. Don't you worry, I will earn my place as one of the Dark Lord's favourites, redeeming my slight on the family name. But I owe you nothing father, not respect nor obedience, because you have no power over me. I suggest you either get behind me or get out of my way. Now go, lead the way, I do not want to keep him waiting for any longer. He has been patient enough as it is." Her eyes were blazing in rage and she felt a nervous energy overtake her.

She wasn't going to cower in front of her father like she did all those years ago, and she wasn't going to work for his love and acceptance, because Cassiopeia realised something in that moment. Her fathers feelings towards her meant nothing compared to the Dark Lords opinion. He was mentally unhinged, barely useful, and he had given her up as a child to serve his master. She didn't fear him because he was no threat.

She walked with her back straight and her head held high to the Dark Lord, dutifully falling to her knees before him, kissing the hem of his robes and waiting for permission to move. She had done this many times as a child, and it didn't take much for the memories to come back, she wasn't running from her fate anymore, she wasn't hiding. She was going to do everything she was raised to do without question or regret.

"Little Lestrange. I have a present for you, a gift to celebrate this momentous occasion a lifetime in the making." He motioned for her to stand, to take in her environment.

There were other Death Eaters standing in the room, in a semi circle around them. Her mother and father of course, unmasked, standing closest to the Dark Lord and the bound gift on the ground, her father looking on with anger and her mother's eyes shining with glee and excitement. Beside them was her uncle Rabastan, pale and gaunt as his brother. There was Lucius Malfoy, she recognised his grey eyes glittering through his mask. Snape was there too, standing off to one side, his eyes empty as he stared on at the scene. There were a few others, wearing masks that she didn't immediately recognise, to have such an audience was telling in and of itself.

She almost didn't recognise the man at first, the overweight muggle who was bound and gagged. He was a large man, though not as large as she remembered him being, pudgy in a way that suggested he was once physically fit in his youth, but had let that muscle turn into fat. She exhaled softly, her eyes narrowing in hatred, the smell of stale lager and fags taking her back to her childhood.

She had been 10 when she moved into his group home. He had destroyed all of her things, pinned her to the ground, and threatened her. He had beaten her viciously, broken her arm in two places and locked her away without food in a dark room. He was a pig who ruined the lives of all the children who were unlucky enough to be placed in his home.

"A gift indeed My Lord." she murmured, stewing in her anger as she took in this man.

"You seem so fond of muggles my little Lestrange, even going so far as to prefer their fashion." he sneered, his eyes flicking up and down her form.

A few of the attending Death Eaters snickered at her, joining the Dark Lord in his mocking. She narrowed her eyes at them, her lip curling, as she launched a volley of spells their way.

"Ah, let's save that energy for our guest." he continued, deflecting her spells away from his followers, enjoying the fire of anger in her eyes. She turned back towards him, lowering her eyes respectfully as she fought to subdue her temper.

"What would you have me do to him My Lord." He watched in amusement as she fought to keep her raging emotions under control, her disdain for those who laughed at her and her anger and hatred of the man in front of her. It was a delightful sight.

"Your parents promised you to me, a perfect warrior to fight for our cause. You claim you are willing and able to fulfill that role. Now is the time to prove it, Show me. Show us what you are capable of. Show us the best the Lestranges can offer."

She nodded, sparing a brief glance at her parents before turning to face the muggle fully. She pulled all of her anger and hatred for this man, for her life, and for her time in the muggle orphanages to the surface, cracking open a carefully buried and controlled well of rage she had spent years trying to rein in deep in her chest. She revelled in the numbness that spread through her body, the cold fury pulsating through her body in time with her heart, her eyes flashed red and she wanted nothing more than to take all of her anger out on this one person. She wanted to punch him, kick him, attack him much in the same way he had done to her all those years ago. She wanted him to feel as helpless and he had made her feel.

"Crucio" the man was knocked back a few feet from the force of her spell, his cries echoing loudly through the room. She revelled in the power that flowed through her, it was like electricity sparking throughout her body, crackling in the air around it, fuelled by her emotions. She got lost in the spell and in her memories of the filth he made her live in.

But it wasn't enough, hurting him this way, it just was not as satisfying. Sure he was in pain, pain she was in control of, but her anger left no marks on his body, no evidence of what he had endured in his final moments. She wanted him to be a warning, to be an example.

With a cry she broke the spell, panting and trying to find a way to satiate her rage.

"P-please." he sobbed, curling into a ball, "Stop… let me go, I promise I wont tell no one, I dun even know you."

She snapped, her vision went red and her head pulsed in pure, white hot rage. She embraced it, let it guide her, and took her revenge with a crying scream.

It happened in flashes, she was yelling at him, screaming obscenities as she vanished his bounds and pounced. He tried to put up a fight, he tried to overpower her as he once had so long ago. But she was no longer a child-she was stronger now.

"Don't you remember me?" she hissed as she straddled him, fighting to keep her balance as he tried to buck her off, her fists slamming into his face, landing with a satisfying slap.

"You owned everything under your roof, including me." She wrestled with one of his hands as he tried to gouge her eyes, twisting it painfully.

"I was stupid, reckless. A waste of money and breath. Those were your words. Dont you remember how you twisted my arm." she growled, twisting his arm in much of the same way, "you broke it in two places that day you arsehole, I wonder how many places i'll break yours in today." She continued much in the same way, physically beating up the man as he tried to fruitlessly defend himself.

"They said I preferred knives. They were right." she was panting, out of breath, the bruises from her parents injuries and the few hits he had managed to land throbbing, and her head aching. She felt the new scars across her body pulling tight as she contorted to keep the muggle below her, and her hot rage was cooling to something less explosive and more deliberate. It was time to end this.

Her knife gleamed in the light, she saw its reflection in his eyes, filled with terror and recognition. "I-Im sorry, Mildred...p-please." he sobbed breathlessly, his whole body shaking as she lowered the knife against his skin.

"My name isn't Mildred Smith. Its Cassiopeia Lestrange." It was the last thing he heard as she ended it, her knife meeting no resistance as she brought the end of his life.

She slumped forward, panting in exhaustion, her head pounding in the aftermath of her anger, and her body aching. She jumped in shock when she felt a hand on her shoulder, the Dark Lord standing above her, his eyes shining with delight as he helped her up from her position on top of the muggle, leading her across the room, one hand wrapped around her shoulders, the other grasping the left hand.

The room was silent with shock as the witnessing Death Eaters stared in expressions that ranged from horror and fear, the only exception of course being her parents, her mother beaming with pride and her father's reluctant approval.

She flushed in embarrassment, brushing her sweaty hair out of her face, feeling ill when she accidentally smeared the man's blood across her face, her knife still in her hand.

She quickly sheathed it, trying to still her shaking hands as the horror of what she had just done set in.

She had killed a man. She had beaten him within an inch of his life, and had ended it cruelly.

And she had enjoyed it.

"A crude demonstration little Lestrange, but enlightening. Kneel." he commanded softly.

She obeyed without question, feeling numb with the shock of the situation, and how quickly her life had escalated.

He didn't ask for her arm, he didn't ask if she would serve him, he didn't need to hear the words again, and he didnt need for her to prove herself capable. He had seen all he needed to and he was quite taken with the Lestrange girl.

He kept his hold on her hand as she knelt, his thumb rubbing against her knuckles affectionately as he took in his newest servant, pleased with what he saw.

He ran his fingers up her sleeve, pushing it back slowly past her scarred wrist to reveal the length of her smooth, pale arm, free from any other adornment. She closed her eyes and exhaled, her face as relaxed as it had been when she had been accepting her punishments the previous day.

He drew his wand, pressing it against her forearm, cradling it with the other, he paused just for a moment, looking at her-thrilled with her performance. He needed more, he needed to feel her, "Look at me," he hissed quietly, squeezing her wrist tightly to get her attention. Her eyes shot open and met his and he was once again in her head, feeling her lightheaded glee from her killing frenzy, getting momentarily lost in it.

He murmured the spell, captivated by her mind once more.

Her face twitched and she let out a short grunt as his magic burrowed into her skin, burning and searing his mark, permanently into her skin. His eyes widened with fascination as he watched the mark catch, and was pleased that she quietly accepted the pain and did not fight him as many had in the past. Her chest heaved, and her eyebrows furrowed as she received his magic, and he was caught once more the in the similarities between her and her mother.

He held her arm for a few moments once he was finished, admiring his work and savouring her pain and shame as he welcomed his newest and most promising follower into the fold.

Cassiopeia couldn't look away from him, she couldn't hide the several powerful emotions that filled her as she took in her mark. She couldn't breath, she couldn't think, and couldn't move. She was hyper aware of the Dark Lords cold fingers, still holding her arm, and the eyes of strangers and friends alike burning into her side. She heard her mother's praise, her pride as she wrapped her arms around her daughter, offering her love and warmth.

She turned into her mother's arms, finally breaking eye contact with the Dark Lord, and buried her face in her shoulder, shaking with the strain and emotion of the day. The Dark Lord dismissed the others, and took his leave, and it wasn't long until Cassiopeia was all alone, taking refuge in the arms of the woman she thought she hated. Cassiopeia squeezed her mother and cried, unable to express all the conflicting emotions she was feeling.

"Shh dear, I know. But mummy's here now, and I will never leave you again." Cassiopeia squeezed her mother tighter and cried harder.

Xxxx

Severus was unusually distracted during the Order meeting later that evening, his mind caught in the violence Cassiopeia so easily gave in to.

He was disturbed, not for the first time, at how savagely she could kill someone, and he found himself doubting whether she could resist the Dark Lord in the long term. He had seen them, had seen the way the Dark Lord so easily entered her mind, how she had let him in.

He was still alive, so he figured she had managed to keep their secrets so far, but the Dark Lord seemed unusually taken with her. He had eyes for no one else, not even Bellatrix as he watched the spectacle. He seemed almost captivated by the girl, forcing her eyes open so he could feel her pain as she took his mark, so he could feel her emotions.

It made him nervous. He had miscalculated just how interested in her the Dark Lord truly was. He had also miscalculated the sheer level of violence she was capable of. She had lost herself, that much was obvious, in the midst of beating the man to death. She gave into the blood lust that was so familiar with her mother, she had enjoyed it. Severus wondered not for the first time if it was worth risking his life, risking everything, to save someone as cruel and violent as this girl.

"Alright there Snape?" grunted Alastor Moody, shaking him suddenly out of his thoughts. He focused on the room around him, noticing the expectant looks around the table.

"Any news Severus?" Dumbledore asked kindly, giving him a knowing smile. He had zoned out of the meeting, tuned them out as he got lost in his thoughts.

"The Dark Lord initiated his newest servant today." he started, glancing at the auror seated further down the table. She stilled, her face paling.

"Cassiopeia Lestrange put on quite the," he swallowed, sneering slightly "show lets say. The Dark Lord is unusually interested in her."

"No," Dora gasped. Molly and Arthur Weasley also looked sick as they processed the news. "She's- we have to help her," Tonks said desperately, looking down the table.

"It's too late for her if she's already taken her mark. Was she forced into it Snape?" Sirius Black asked, "Is anyone forced into their mark," he added pointedly. Snape glared at the man, his lip curling in distaste.

"Rumour has it that she was beaten quite severely by her parents yesterday, the Dark Lord himself had to heal her."

Molly and Arthur grasped each others hand, "Did she look okay Severus?" Arthur asked gruffly.

"As well as someone who beat a man to death could." He hissed, feeling suddenly irritated at everything and everyone around him.

The table fell silent as they processed the news.

"Do we know who he was?" Dumbledore finally asked.

"A muggle man. She knew him-he called her Mildred. She yelled a number of things at him, something about taking her belongings and breaking her arm." he waved dismissively, "she grew a little incoherent in the heat of things."

"I know who he was. The man who ran her last group home in the Muggle world. He had terrorised her, starved her, stole her belongings, beat her, and broke her arm in several places. She still had the cast on when she came to live with us. She hated him, she was also afraid of him, which I think made her hate him more." Dora said softly, frowning deeply, her distress clear in her hair as it changed colours anxiously.

"And her bracelet?" Dumbledore asked.

Snape shrugged, "I did not see it, but that does not mean it is gone." Dumbledore nodded sadly, there was little they could do so long as she had it.

"That isn't Cassiopeia, she is not like them. She is a good person." Molly said lowly, glaring at everyone around her, daring them to disagree.

"No good person beats a man to death." Sirius said simply. "She takes after her parents. She may have fooled you lot, but she is finally showing her true colours."

"Coming from a man who tried to murder his friend." Snape said snidely, glaring down the table.

Sirius flushed, standing so abruptly that his chair knocked back with an almighty clatter, clutching his wand.

"Enough." Dumbledore said loudly, interrupting whatever Sirius was going to say. He looked sternly between the two, "Enough. Cassiopeia Lestrange is not beyond redemption. This is not the fate she chose, but it is the only choice she had if she wanted to live."

"But this isn't the only suspected murder is it?" Moody said gruffly, "the girl is dangerous, impulsive."

"What are you talking about Alastor?" asked Professor McGonagall who looked profoundly disturbed by the conversation.

"Are you going to tell them Tonks or am I?" he looked pointedly to his protege.

Nymphadora for her part flushed, looking both indignant and annoyed as her mentor called her out. "Cassiopeia grew up in violence and responds to violence. She has a lot of unresolved anger and pain, and instead of dealing with it in a healthy way she has always buried it deep. Sometimes, she can get lost in it. I've seen it myself, it's...unsettling." she admitted.

"And you suspect she killed someone while abroad on a research trip." Moody said simply.

"I suspect she hurt someone in self defence. A suspicion I was never able to find any evidence for." she said sullenly.

"Miss Lestrange is a complicated case. And I am concerned at the interest the Dark Lord is showing in her. Keep an eye on her Severus, I fear if we do not act soon then she may be lost to us forever." Dumbledore said quietly, bringing the matter to a close. Snape nodded curtly, his mind going back to the bloody scene from earlier.

She very well could be lost to them sooner rather than later. And that could be very bad for him.

Xxx

Going back to work was difficult. Her whole life had fundamentally changed and yet she was expected to go about her business as normal. As if she didn't sell her soul to the devil.

It was tedious, breaking curses and troubleshooting symptoms all the while her mind was wandering to her after work activities.

Her training sessions.

Every night he had her working with her parents, honing her skills and theirs—which had grown rusty in Azkaban. They were instructed to not hold back, and while Cassiopeia was healthy and fit, her parents knew wicked curses and dark magic she had never dreamt of.

Her mother drew joy out of the fights, the ecstatic glee lighting her eyes as she became reacquainted with her wand.

As for her father, well he disliked her and distrusted her. He used these sessions as punishment, to show her just how underwhelmed he was by her existence.

Cassiopeia was strong, quick, and fit-physically dancing in circles around her parents. All it took was one careless mistake, one brush of their magic and it was over. It was two against one, the odds never in her favour.

She often ended these sessions, bleeding, crying, and a little broken.

And then he would come for her. She began to look forward to his lessons in a sick kind of way in no small part because he offered her one thing.

Relief.

She had been careless, over confident—holding her own for a surprising amount of time against the Lestranges. She had foolishly forgot her mother used more than spells.

She ducked the knife but the movement cost her enough for her father to edge around her shields, his blast hitting her arm explosively-she went numb, dropping her wand and unable to retaliate. Her magic failed and she was handicapped and helpless.

They didn't stop. Most would of, understanding they won and she lost but they did not. Rodolphus was lost in his hate, his mind fragmented and incapable for rational thought in the heat of battle. Her mother was lost in the brain numbing high of violence. They both lacked restraint and they had her in their sights.

By the time the Dark Lord intervened, she was a bloody mess, swimming in and out of consciousness as pain overtook her mind. She could only cry silent tears, sobs requiring too much energy and hurt too badly.

He had been gentle with her, shushing softly as she keened as he picked her up. He murmured words of encouragement, he promised retribution and revenge. He would teach her, show her how to win against them.

He laid her gently on a bed, gentle and careful, murmuring lowly in sympathy.

The world spun and she found it difficult to focus on anything, let alone him.

Her breathing increased and spike with her anxiety as he felt around her injuries, her breath catching in a quiet sob as he touched something particularly sensitive.

"Little Lestrange," he sighed, "I can help you, just say the world and I will support you."

She whimpered, feeling nauseous from the pain, desperate for some kind of relief. "Please," she begging.

He ran a hand through her hair, frowning sarcastically. "Please can mean many things."

"Please my Lord, please make it go away." She sounded pitiful, small and shrivelled, injures and desperate.

"Since you asked so nicely," He bared his teeth in a cruel facsimile of a smile, his eyes greedily taking her in.

Her parents meant pain, inevitable pain. The Dark Lord began to mean salvation.

She looked forward to his arrival as it meant an end to her pain. A balm, and all at the price of her memories.

He would invade her mind as he healed her, guiding her chaotic thoughts as she swam in and out if consciousness.

He spent a lot of time in her mind, she began to associate the comfort he offered with the fullness of her brain.

She would do anything for him during this time. Anything to escape the pain

When he was in her mind everything stilled. Her feelings became muted, her fears and insecurities quieting for the first time of her life.

He calmed her demons.

She basked in his attention, relaxing into his embrace which had once so terrified her, relief coming from everywhere he touched.

He watched her memories of her childhood, replaying them like an old projection, watching and learning.

She began to doubt things she once held to be facts. The Dark Lord showed her, he replayed interactions to adult Cassiopeia, carefully showing her the gaps in her beliefs.

The hidden looks between the Tonks throughout her childhood. The fear and distrust in their eyes.

Her professors at school had been afraid of her, he showed her half remembered conversations—overheard thoughts that were filled with cruel words.

And Dora—She never really cared did she? She had an ulterior motive when she brought her in. She was a young auror, desperate for recognition and fame. What better way than to arrest a Lestrange. That's why she re-entered her life.

Cassiopeia struggles to separate real memories from implanted one. He modified her life, showing her a different perspective. Nobody has ever truly cared for her because she was unlovable. She was violent and talented. She inspired fear and trepidation. The Tonks', the Weasleys—everyone had been nice to her because they were afraid. And a few used her. The Ministry used her to do their dirty work and Glynn used her to fight his battles. Nobody had cared for her.

But the Dark lord cared for her. Genuinely. He let his feelings known as he healed her, and he invaded her mind and became the only thing she know. She could feel his fondness, his obsession as he examined her life. She felt his possessiveness and excitement when he watched her more violent memories. He loved watching her fight almost as much as he enjoyed watching her suffer.

"You need to be strong Little Lestrange. Let me show you, let me teach you," He would hiss as he healed her.

When she was no longer in pain, when it was only phantom sores and quivering muscles still reacting in a pain no longer present she would drop to the ground, on her hands and knees thanking him for his mercy, pressing the hem of his robe against her lips.

Then he would teach her. Every evening until the early hours of the morning the Dark Lord taught her spells. He was overwhelming and all encompassing, pushing himself close to her back as he stretched behind her to adjust her grip. He would gently grasp her waist, sharp fingers digging into her sides as he used his bare feet to adjust hers.

He would whisper in her ear, sending chills down her spine and would tremble with excitement whenever she was successful.

Casting dark magic was exhilarating. The rush of power made her head swim pleasantly, her heart would race and she would be left with a breathless flush. Casting dark magic with him was overwhelming euphoria, the danger and power he exuded making her head spin.

Xxx

It was strange watching her parents together. They bickered and snarled at each other, glaring and growling when the other did something foolish.

Cassiopeia came to a rather surprising realisation during her lessons. She had never really seen her parents together. Sure they stood beside each other, directly to the right of the Dark Lord but outside of Death Eater meetings, they were never together.

And even now when they were forced to undertake a task together they seemed strange-strained. Almost like they didn't actually like each other.

But they were married. They had her. How could they not like each other? They had the same interests, same political ideology, and even the same habits. But they appeared to also share a singular hatred for the other.

There were no gentle touches that Ted and Andromeda had shared. There were no warm looks cast in secret like Lucius and Narcissa had. They were both incredibly similar and yet diametrically opposed.

It bothered her. And that bothered her even more. Why should she care about her parents relationship? It was none of her business and it wasn't like she was invested in it particularly.

She had always assumed Bellatrix and Rodolphus were a match made in hell. They were both sadistic and violent fanatics who dedicated their lives to rebuilding the world into a pure blood autocracy. They worshipped the Dark Lord in their own ways and lived to serve him.

But their distance and dislike of each other confused her. How had they ended up together if they didn't even like each other.

She puzzled over it for weeks, watching them closely and looking for any indication that she was wrong in her initial assessment.

Then she had a session with the Dark Lord himself together with Bellatrix. Cassiopeia felt sick as she watched them together—where she has shied away from Rodolphus she pushed herself at him. She was harsh with her husband, spitting and snarking when he spoke and she had eyes only for him. She was desperate for his attention, for his blessing and basked in his presence.

Cassiopeia felt as if she was witnessing something that should be very private, a relationship that hinted at more. Her mother would do anything for him and she was beginning to realise that she loved him, idolised him, and was obsessed with him.

The Dark Lord made eye contact with her and she felt him immediately, his amusement as he dug through her surface thoughts, "leave us," he hissed at Bellatrix. She didn't miss the dark look her mother threw at her. She was jealous of the Dark Lord's time and those who commanded it.

And Cassiopeia was always alone with the Dark Lord. He wanted to train her himself, he had plans for her and only the best would do. Sometimes their sessions were very physical, with her duelling him or learning difficult magics, and other times he pull her close and dig through her mind, sometimes implanting information, ideas, and images of his magic, other times he would just observe, learn.

She kept her outer mind chaotic, a swirling mess of emotions and thoughts-unfocused and disorderly. He never looked deeper. He never brushed against her hidden defences. Not yet.

She bowed her head, holding her breath as her mother left the room. She stayed bowed until his feet feet entered her line of sight and his fingers curled under her chin.

"So obedient little Lestrange. And so full of questions. You are an adult now, able to comprehend so much more of your world." He murmured. He was in an unusually good mood today, jovial.

She remained silent, watching him. He was in her head, he knew what she was wondering. He also knew that she was afraid of knowing the answer.

"I admit I am fond of your mother," he acquiesced, giving her a grotesque smile, "very different from my fondness of you little Lestrange. I have great plans for you, when you are ready." he inhaled deeply, his eyes shining with a wicked excitement.

"But that's not what you are curious about is it?" he smirked, gripping her chin sharply.

She flushed, uncertain whether she really wanted to know.

"Your blood is Lestranges," he put to bed one of her suspicions, she sighed in relief, she did not want to know more. She did not want to know of her mother's relationship with the Dark Lord. It was none of her business.

"I have a job for you Lestrange." He said finally, pulling himself out of her mind and offering her his hand.

She took it and was immediately whisked away in side along apparition. She looked around her surroundings, her wand appearing in her hand and her senses on high alert. They were in a forest somewhere, it was dark and bitterly cold. She shivered.

"Some abandoned me when they felt the call Lestrange. They tried to run and flee, they betrayed me and must be punished. Just through there is one of the traitors. Igor Karkaroff. I want you to kill him, make him suffer." he spoke quietly.

Cassiopeia swallowed, feeling sick as she understood what she was being asked to do. Her face twisted as she nodded shortly, taking a breath to calm the nausea growing in her stomach as she turned to the forest clearing where she could hear the snoring of a man.

The Dark Lord followed close behind her as she crept forward, her hand shaking slightly as she shivered from the cold and fear.

He whispered in her ear as she worked and he was pleased at her obedience. She was cold and efficient, so very different from her mother. She was nearly clinical about it, torturing the man under his command, and ending it when he ordered.

Bellatrix lost herself in violence, grew impertinent and lacked restraint. Cassiopeia was calm when it wasn't personal, she was controlled in her violence, and she was very attentive to his will.

She was perfect.

Karkaroff was the last of the traitors. His ranks had been pruned and those who deserved their punishment had received it. He was ready to move on.

xxx

"I have confirmed that Miss Lestrange no longer wears her mother's bracelet. She is being watched however, closely by the Dark Lord and her parents, and rarely leaves the manor unless she is going to work." Snape reported dutifully to the order.

"We can help her now, we have to." Tonks chimed in eagerly, looking desperately at Dumbledore, who looked unusually serious.

"Voldemort is still showing unusual interest in her then Severus?" he asked

"Correct. He is training her himself." He said grimly.

He hadn't been able to speak to her. They only ever saw each other at meetings and she was staying at the Malfoy Manor more and more as her lessons continued. She was rarely out of the presence of her mother or the Dark Lord from what he could see.

"Training her for what?" Arthur asked darkly.

He shrugged. The Dark Lord hadn't announced anything but his fellow Death Eaters knew enough to fear her. The Dark Lord had only ever taken on one student before and that had been Bellatrix.

He also had taken a back seat to punishment recently, allowing her to mete out pain as others angered him. She sat to his left, Bellatrix and Lucius to his right. She was never called on during meetings though often talked about.

The Dark lord delighted in telling his followers just what end the deserters found themselves in. He described the different ways she delivered his justice while she stared at the wall in stony silence.

"She looks miserable," he added truthfully.

Low murmurs filled the room as the Order took in the news. It was not looking good for Miss Lestrange.

Xxx

She quit her job.

She was too exhausted to continue pretending. It was best to cut connections early and completely retreat.

Besides working was a fantasy, a way to pass the time until he came back. Her priority had to be with him.

Lionel sat quietly behind his desk, staring at her letter of resignation grimly. She fidgeted, keen to get this over with and move on.

"Are you okay Cassiopeia?" He asked quietly, giving her a very serious look.

She jerked her head in irritation. Of course she wasn't ok. "Fine sir. I just need a change of pace." She said softly.

He remained silent for a while.

"I noticed you changed your name a few months ago." He said

She didn't know how to respond so she remained silent.

"You locked yourself away for a while, turning away all visitors. I notice they stopped recently." He continued

She shrugged.

"I'm not a fool Cassiopeia and I truly hope you do not think me so unobservant as to miss what's right in front of me," he frowned at her.

"My job is to heal people, to help people and protect life. I swore an oath to do this. You are not bound by the same path but I hope you hold the same values.

If you need help, I will try. If you need to heal, come directly to me. But I will not try to sway you from the decision you've so clearly made. It is not my place. I am neutral and will remain so, helping anyone and everyone. Do you understand that?" He looked at her very seriously.

She nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly. He knew. He had to know.

"It was a pleasure working with you and I hope you know what you're doing." He said finally.

She stood, shaking his hand firmly, feeling ashamed at how they parted ways.

"Thank you Lionel, for everything."

He gave her a curt nod, "not the ending I had hoped for." Was all he said before opening the door with a wave of his wand.

She filled her free time training. From the moment she woke up until her late afternoon lessons with her parents she trained.

She built a gym- clearing out a room in her parents old house and filled it with weights and punching bags. She spent hours everyday obsessively working out, preparing her body as the Dark lord prepared her mind.

She didn't see Snape. Or anyone other than her parents and the Dark went to Death Eater meetings but never spoke, and she was only summoned to punish someone. She rarely saw her aunt and uncle, who always made themselves scarce when she was over for her daily lessons.

She felt hollow and broken when she wasn't training. Her mind felt empty without the Dark Lords overwhelming presence. She doubted her memories and her feelings, uncertain of what was true and what he altered or planted.

She did know that despite the Dark Lords regular occupation in her mind he never suspected her Occlumency abilities. He never once brushed across her barriers that she created tightly in the core of her mind. She isolated those memories, rarely drawing on them and never in the presence of another.

For now they were safe. She wanted to keep them that way.

Xxx

"Miss Lestrange finally made an appearance this evening." Snape announced to the room.

The room stilled as they turned to look at him.

"How does she look?" Dora asked anxiously

"Physically She is keeping fit. I understand she has been training with her parents and the Dark Lord," he started before hesitating, uncertain how to best describe her.

"She was quiet during the meeting, unusually obedient. She sits to his left now and—" he frowned, "she appears to carry out his punishments for him. I believe he had made her into his weapon. She does not resemble the same person you knew, he's changed her." He said grimly.

A low muttering broke out across the table. Tonks shook her head, "Cassiopeia doesn't have an ounce of obedience in her. I'll believe it when I see it," she said stubbornly.

"I have not been able to speak to her, but I assure you she is very obedient-a trait I too believed beyond her."

Dora shook her head stubbornly, "she may have closed herself off Snape, but she would never give in totally to him."

Snape wished he held the conviction that young Tonks did. He was concerned about the girl. And for his own safety.

 _A/N Enjoy! And please let me know what you think about Voldemort and the way he is towards her. He is following classic cult tactics to isolate her, train her, and re program her. Thanks for reading and sticking around! And as always I love hearing peoples ideas and theories! Cheers to the guest reviewer and AvalonTheLadyKiller_

 _tibys_


	12. Chapter 12: Veritaserum

She was in pain, it overwhelmed her senses as she writhed on the floor before her mother who gave a mad cackle.

She made the mistake of mentioning Nymphadora to her. It was careless, a slip of the tongue as she spoke about a spell she learned from her sister.

Bellatrix spent the most time with Cassiopeia, who only saw her father when the Dark Lord ordered them together. According to her mother, he spent his free time getting pissed and passing out these days with his brother.

Bellatrix was also quick to anger, punishing her severely for every mistake and every mishap.

And mishaps could range from the large slip ups, mentioning her life with the Tonks to using the wrong tone of voice.

Her punishment was short lived thankfully as the Dark Lord came into their room, pausing only to take in her suffering.

"Enough." Her ordered. Bellatrix released the spell immediately and Cassiopeia remained on the ground, panting and curling into a ball.

When she regained her breath slightly she crawled to the Dark Lord and kissed his robes, awaiting his orders.

"Leave us Bella," He said gently, his voice warm. "Wait for me in my office." He asked as she walked out. She felt sick thinking about whatever that was about.

She shivered, she didn't want to know exactly what that was about.

When Bellatrix had finally left the Dark Lord allowed her to stand, offering her a hand up.

"Do you miss your cousin Little Lestrange? Or should I say your _sister_ as you frequently think of her." He mocked coldly

Cassiopeia didn't answer. She couldn't.

He knew anyways. He was in her mind enough to know some of the truths.

"Poor little Lestrange," the Dark Lord sighed as he peered into her mind and took in her loneliness. "Isolated from the world with only myself for company,"

That wasn't entirely true. She also spent time with her mother outside of fighting. She was never comfortable around her mother though-the memory of pain and curses always fresh. She was on edge when she was alone, paranoid and alert for attacks from her father.

She was only ever relaxed in his presence, when he overwhelmed her senses and became her world. She hated this reaction to him. Logically she knew it was wrong but she couldn't change her reaction to him. He had conditioned her to feel this way.

He smirked cruelly as he observed her logical mind fight with her emotional. "Your body betrays you Lestrange. You may find me distasteful but you still crave to be in my presence," he pulled her closer to him, revelling in how she trembled in fear and excitement.

"I have a job for you Lestrange. One that I think you'll enjoy."

She shivered, feeling slightly nauseous at the thought of what he might think she would enjoy.

"Your _sister_ has been asking about you," he continued, mocking as he emphasised the word sister.

"My cousin my Lord," she corrected immediately.

"You forget Little Lestrange, I have been in your mind. You love her like a sister." He spat, his fingers digging into her skin painfully in warning.

She remained silent.

"I want you to go to her. Spend some time with her. Let her help you."

"She wants me to join the Order of the Phoenix my lord," she reminded him, her heart in her throat now. Surely he didn't—she thought since he never brought it up again, her initial suggestion that he had dismissed it.

"Then let her convince you. Join the order, ingratiate yourself with the traitors and mudbloods. You are my victim are you not? Do they not think highly of you? Think you unbreakable? Listen Lestrange and show me." He finally released her, but he remained close, circling her as if she were prey.

She swallowed thickly, hardly daring to hope—"my lessons, our training..." she trailed off, uncertain of whether she was protesting their end or celebrating it.

"Will you miss me Lestrange? We have grown rather close these past few months." He grinned grotesquely at her. She flushed, the way he said it made her feel dirty somehow. Like they had been doing something far more intimate than they had.

But then he had been in her mind, had overwhelmed her senses and healed her body. That was intimate in its own way.

"Never fear, we will continue our lessons. I will require regular updates. I will summon you when I need you."

Her mind raced, it was all so sudden, so real. She was terrified to go back out into the real world, ashamed to face her family. She had killed for him, hunted down traitors and cut them down mercilessly.

She was his left hand. His flaming sword in the upcoming war. Surely he would prefer her to remain close.

"I am very capable of handling discontent without you Lestrange," he responded to her thoughts, amusement dancing across his face.

"You already have a man in the Order," she said

"I am growing impatient with your questions little one," he warned lightly.

She swallowed. She didn't know why she was protesting, isn't this what she wanted in the first place?

She bowed lowly, "I apologise for my impertinence my Lord. Thank you for the opportunity," she murmured.

"I'll be watching you closely Lestrange. You can't hide from me. Remember that," he warned her darkly.

"Of course, my lord," she said quickly, her heart spiking in anxiety.

Here, with him and her parents, she was in another world, another reality. The real world seemed so far away, like a hazy dream.

How could she face her sister?

"Dismissed Lestrange. I expect results," she nodded and left the room quickly, wondering how to complete her task.

She wanted to approach Dora on neutral ground and she wasn't so certain the Dark Lord was not following her. She'd rather stay in public places.

The Ministry would do.

She dressed in full wizard robes, the first time since she quit her job at St Mungos. Her mother helped her pick them out.

She also did her hair. For her whole life Cassiopeia let her curls run wild. She had never learned how to tame them and never had the patience to try.

But her mother knew. She helped her prep, beaming with pride as her daughter got ready to undertake her first truly solo responsibility for the Dark Lord. She was quiet in her praise, but she was present and that was enough.

Dora worked the early shift.

She hated early mornings but it was the only opening.

Cassiopeia came bearing gifts. Good, strong coffee and Dora's favourite breakfast—a bacon bap.

She was nervous as she entered the ministry. She felt as if everyone was staring at her. She thought that everyone must know, that it was obvious what she had done.

But everyone hurried on, all eager to conduct their business. Oblivious to the danger that lurked around the corner.

She hesitated getting off the lift when it arrived, feeling ill from the very thought of confronting Dora.

She must know by now—what had happened to her. What would she think?

So distracted she nearly bumped into a witch. "Cassiopeia," She said in surprise, giving her a warm smile.

Amelia Bones was not the person she wanted to see. Ms Bones stepped off the lift, letting the doors close so she could have a quick chat.

"Fancy seeing you here, looking for a job? I hear you left yours." She smiled, a teasing twinkle in her eyes.

Despite her good humoured tone, she looked exhausted.

"No actually. I've turned to investments full time." She said nervously.

"That's a pity, I could use someone like you right about now," she sighed. "What brings you here?"

"Just visiting my er—Dora. Nymphadora Tonks" She said, fumbling with the word sister

Ms Bones did not miss the fumble. She eyed the girl carefully, really looking at her. "Been keeping alright? I heard they had you in protective custody after the break out." She said

"Yes they did for 72 hours." She said simply.

The lift doors gave a ding as it arrived, Amelia stuck out her hand to hold it open as she gave the girl a searching look. "I know things didn't end well with us but you do know you can come to me—about anything at all."

Cassiopeia felt her fear turn into irritation. She was so tired of people saying that. What would they do she wondered if she turned around and laid her problems at their feet. How could they help her? What could she do?

It was all false sentiments designed to make them feel better. They can say they tried.

"Of course. Good day Ms Bones," she said pointedly looking at the lift.

Amelia nodded, looking sad and exhausted as she climbed into the lift, giving her a curt goodbye.

She pulled on that irritation as she walked around looking for her sisters office.

"Cass?" Asked an astonished voice before she was quickly enveloped in a tight all encompassing hug.

"Merlin Cass I can't believe it's you," Dora was practically sobbing, squeezing her sister for all she was worth.

Cassiopeia stiffened, her heart racing and a cold sweat broke out across her forehead. In the last few months only two people had embraced her-the Dark Lord and her mother.

Dora's hug was so much more. She was incoherent, asking a million questions as was quickly being overwhelmed with several strong emotions.

"I brought you coffee," she gasped weakly, finding it difficult to breathe through the hug.

"Of course you did. Come on," She was being pulled along now, down a hallway with busy aurors running to and fro until she got to an office with a shiny plaque outside.

Nymphadora Tonks-Auror.

Cassiopeia smiled, feeling a strange twist in her chest as she saw it. "You've got your own office now," she said weakly.

"Yeah, consolation for the early shift." She pulled her in and shut the door firmly, locking it right and warding it.

Cassiopeia gently set down her presents on the table, still feeling cold and nervous.

"It's been months Cass," she said seriously.

"I know" she whispered, bowing her head and trying to swallow her shame and sorrow.

"They say he's training you himself."

Cassiopeia nodded shortly, her face burning now.

"Why have you come here?" She asked finally, wanting desperately to trust this girl but worried about her loyalties.

"I need help," her voice was small as she spoke, her whole body numb with fear.

"He wants me to seek your help." She amended, barely peeking up at her. "Dora you have to believe that none of this is my choice. I didn't want to be a monster. But I also didn't want to die."

"You're here on his orders?" She asked seriously.

"Yes. Bring Dumbledore and Snape. They'll know- they'll see. He has tried so hard but he hasn't broken me nearly as much as he thinks," her voice was a harsh whisper-filled with bitterness and scorn.

Dora was silent as she studied the girl in front of her. She had changed. It was hard to see the Cassiopeia she knew and trusted.

This girl was stronger-physically than Cass has ever been. She was also timid, unable to make eye contact and keep it. She was ashamed and afraid and uncertain.

"I'll have to ask. They both are at Hogwarts, they won't manage until this evening. I'll take today off and I'll put you up at mine. Sound good?"

"You don't have to miss work for me," she protested weakly.

"I really do. Cmon- I'm going to go back to sleep honestly," she said, offering her sister her hand.

Cassiopeia sighed, taking her hand and wondering what she did to deserve such a sister.

xxx

Dumbledores looked ancient when he arrived and Snape kept his face carefully blank, his eyes sharp as they focussed on the girl in front of him.

"Miss Tonks- I must admit you quite fell off my radar a couple of months ago" Dumbledore kept his tone light as he watched her closely, peering over his glasses, trying to catch her eye.

"Lestrange— and we all know exactly where and who I've been with for the past few months Dumbledore." She said darkly, feeling suddenly on edge.

The Dark Lord has planted many images in her head, memories and thoughts that were surfacing now as she looked at Dora and Dumbledore. She knew they were false, but they affected her as if they were real.

Dumbledore was the trigger. She felt an almost overwhelming fear and revulsion in the face of the man, she wanted nothing more than to run from him, hide.

"Indeed, I had heard Voldemort has taken a special interest in you," he amended quietly.

She snorted, that was putting it lightly—"More than that—I am to be his left hand. Honoured above all else to enforce his will." She quietly, glaring at the floor in front of her.

"Merlin Cass," Dora muttered taking in her sister in a fresh light.

"He instructed me to be here. He wants me to join your group and to report back on what I hear and see. He—he doesn't know though, he underestimates me," she was looking st Snape now, he would understand.

"The Dark Lord enters freely into your mind," Snape said bluntly, watching the girl very closely.

"Oh yes, it's become his favourite past time. he looks but he doesn't see Snape." She said quietly.

"How can we be certain we can trust you? You've said it yourself, you're only here on his orders," he was still suspicious.

"What do I have to do to gain your trust?" She asked.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you are sincere in your request," it was Dumbledore who spoke, his voice firm.

She barely suppressed a shudder. Dumbledore had always set her on edge, he always made her nervous. And now, with the Dark Lords meddling, she found him downright terrifying.

She was covered in a cold sweat as she swallowed nervously. With a deep breath she did as she was told. She looked Dumbledore in the eye, her mental barriers gone and asked to join the Order of the Phoenix.

From an outside perspective nothing of great worth took place in that moment.

But for Cassiopeia that moment stretched for an eternity.

Dumbledore was gentle, subtle as he filled her mind, gently weaving his way through her outer chaotic thoughts.

The Dark Lord was overwhelming, all encompassing, omnipresent when he filled her head. Dumbledore was a whisper, subtly cutting to the heart of the matter, gently probing along her inner barriers, the ones the Dark Lord never thought to look for.

He tried to break them, he circled them and pushed, testing their strength. And once his curiosity was satisfied he pulled out of her mind, as if nothing ever happened.

"Your mind is no longer your own," he said simply.

"Most if it isn't. But I've kept my secrets my own. My act of rebellion. I am his left hand Dumbledore, I have information and I will have influence. I can help. You know it. Please. Let me help," she hated begging but it felt as if this was her one chance. Her one way to balance out all the evil.

She wanted to help. She needed to. And not just because the Dark Lord would punish her severely.

"The decision is not mine alone. We will discuss it." He said finally.

It wasn't a no.

"I'll do anything Dumbledore to prove my sincerity. Even if that means taking veritaserum." She said solemnly.

Snape stilled and Dumbledore gave her a searching look over his glasses. "We would never demand that of you Miss Lestrange." he said softly.

"You may not and you don't need to. I am offering, if that is what it takes."

Xxx

"Cassiopeia Lestrange approached Miss Tonks here in the early hours yesterday morning seeking membership to this Order." The room fell quiet as Dumbledore spoke.

"She freely admitted her role in the Death Eaters and that she was ordered by Voldemort to petition for membership."

A low murmuring broke out at the news-they were uneasy at the declaration.

"She wants to help and this is the only way she knows how," Nymphadora said firmly, glaring at everyone around her.

"But can she be trusted?" Asked Sirius Black firmly. "She is acting on his orders,"

"How is she?" Molly Weasley asked, looking at Tonks anxiously.

"She's... different." She started, trying to find the words, "physically she is very fit but she's quiet-afraid and ashamed. She's closed off, but she's sincere. Desperate to help."

"The Dark Lord calls her his left hand. She carries out his will without thought or hesitation. He has near total control over her," Snape said darkly.

More murmurings broke out. "Did you see her Albus?" Asked Arthur, frowning heavily, clutching his wife's hand tightly.

"I did, she has resisted him in her own way thus far," he confirmed.

"How? How can we be sure? It's too dangerous. That girl made her choice and it was a bad one." Sirius said harshly

"What do you think Severus? You understand what she is going through better than anyone here perhaps." Lupin asked

Snape had given it a lot of thought since he saw the girl. It was the amended plan that she join the Order, she was keen to before she returned to him. She had trained to be more than his informant, she had wanted to help.

But neither of them had quite anticipated his obsession with her. She was under intense scrutiny everyday—it was a big risk.

But she had held strong so far. The Dark Lord was arrogant and she had gone to great lengths to convince him of her helplessness. He would never suspect she had the ability to hide from him, to openly defy him. He had lived in her mind for months and had yet to discover that she was an occlumens.

It was a risk, but one worth taking.

"The Dark Lord has taken residence in her mind, conditioning her and modifying her memories—torturing her in his own way. She has been under greater scrutiny than perhaps anyone else who has followed him and she is proving to be a key part of his plans.

Through all of it, he has never noticed she is an occlumens. She has kept her secrets hers while he is none the wiser. By giving in freely and without resistance she has allayed all suspicion that she could disobey him directly. She planted the idea to join the Order months ago, and it is only now that the Dark Lord is confident he has mentally dominated her that he has considered it.

We walk in different circles, she would have information I do not, and she spends time alone with him. Her insight into his psyche could also prove useful" he said.

"Can't we just talk to her Albus? Bring her here so we can see for ourselves?" Molly Asked.

"She offered to take a dose of veritaserum and answer questions. Perhaps we should let her." Tonks wasn't keen on the idea, but it seemed the rest of the Order were not keen on her joining.

"We can not demand it of her." Dumbledore said firmly.

"We didn't...she offered it sounds like. I say we bring her in, ask her a few questions, and get the real story." Sirius Black chimed in.

There were murmurs of agreement.

Cassiopeia Lestrange would plead her case and subject herself for questioning under the influence of Veritaserum-willingly taken.

Xxx

Cassiopeia had to travel to the Order headquarters with Dumbledore. It had taken a surprising amount of mental strength to take the man's hand and allow him to transport her. Logically she understood her trepidation of the man came mostly from implanted feelings and emotions.

That did not stop her from feeling them.

She sighed lowly in relief, carefully to step just far enough away from him that it didn't look suspicious. If he noticed he never commented.

The house was filthy and eerily quiet, she wrinkled her nose in disgust as she felt dust and decay begin to clog it. She scowled darkly at the stuffed house elves- it was barbaric. This was definitely the house if puebloods.

Dora grabbed her hand, giving her a reassuring smile and a warm squeeze as she led her through the narrow hallway and into a large kitchen.

Cassiopeia paused outside the door, taking a deep breath. This was it, she was not going to back down now. The kitchen was packed, with many forced to either stand or conjure up their own chairs. The low murmur of conversation stopped as she entered the kitchen, every head swivelling to stare at her, some darkly and others in pity.

She avoided the gazes of anyone she knew, she especially avoided the gaze of Charlie Weasley who had flushed red as he saw her.

Of course he would be here.

"Sit Miss Lestrange." Dumbledore said kindly.

It took a second for her to centre herself. She needed to be strong, she needed to be open and honest. She shrugged off her cloak, her face barely colouring as the room all shifted to stare at her Dark Mark, red against her skin, in judgement.

She wasn't going to hide. She had taken his mark and would live with it. She couldn't pretend it wasn't there.

"You have indicated your desire to take veritaserum- is that still your wish?" Dumbledore asked seriously.

"It is," she said smoothly folding her hand delicately on the table.

"And you understand that you do not have to do this? We can ask questions without the aid of potions." Dumebledore gave her one more chance to back out.

"I understand. You have the dose Snape?" She asked, turning to stare at the surly Professor.

Snape was sharp in his movements, carefully measuring out the dose accordingly, three drops would do.

He paused, "Are you certain Lestrange?" He asked lowly one last time.

She stuck her tongue out, staring him directly in his eye as a response.

She was taken aback by its complete lack of taste and she also wasn't certain whether it was really working. She didn't feel any different. Not really.

"Why are you really here?" Asked someone.

She found herself answering before she even realised it. "To answer your questions." She said.

"Did the Dark Lord Order you to be here? To join us?" It was a man this time who asked the question.

"Yes."

It was a rather strange feeling. Her mouth seemed to be disconnected to her brain. It was unnerving. But it was also strangely predictable. If she wanted to, she could fight the potion. It was useful knowledge but not knowledge she was going to act upon now.

"Are you loyal to the Dark lord?" It was Alastor Moody who asked the question.

"Yes and no," This was a difficult question. "Will I follow his orders, Yes undoubtedly. Will I work to undermine him at every turn- most definitely" She elaborated.

"Can you keep our secrets from You-Know-Who?" Someone else asked.

"I believe I can. The Dark Lord underestimates me. He doesn't believe I have the ability to hide from him, not while he is in my mind."

"How? How can you hide from him?"

"Occlumency. He doesn't suspect I am an occlumens."

"How long have you studied Occlumency?" It was Dora, she sounded genuinely curious.

"Since I was 15."

"Occlumens can resist veritaserum. Are you resisting?" It was the other auror, Kingsley.

"No. I believe I can resist, if I wanted to. But I am not." She said simply.

"What role do you serve in the Death Eater organisation?"

"I am the Dark Lords left hand, I carry out his will as his weapon. I execute his punishments, exact revenge on those who have betrayed him. I am his instrument of destruction." She felt hollow as she said it, giving in completely to the potion. She had never really said it out loud before, her new role. It was difficult to hear.

The room fell silent as they processed her words, shock and uneasiness on every face.

Sirius Black broke the silence with a scoff, leaning forward to examine the girl coldly

"How many knives do you have on you?" He asked, a dangerous glint in his eye. He was up to something.

"3," She said immediately.

"Are you loyal to your parents?"

She paused, it was another difficult question. "I have no loyalty to my father," she started before pausing once more. "I do not understand my feelings towards my mother. I suppose I am loyal to her in my own way," she said slowly, feeling sick as she said it.

"And what does that mean? He sneered at her.

"I would be upset if I lost her," Cassiopeia shifted slightly, uncomfortable with the conversation. She did not dare look at Dora.

"How much will you tell You-Know-Who?" Someone else asked.

"Enough to keep him satisfied."

"Did you serve him as a child?" It was Sirius black again, his face stony as he stared at her

"Yes." She said softly, barely restraining herself for saying more. She had answered his direct question, she wouldn't give him details.

"Watch it Black," Dora glared at the man, feeling both conflicted and protective of her sister.

"Do you believe in his cause?" it was Charlie Weasley who asked quietly.

"Of course not." she said immediately, her face wrinkled in disgust and horror. Did he truly believe she did?

"How did you join him?" Someone else asked.

"The Dark Lord fetched me himself, not long after I left auror custody. I was fortunate he did not kill me then." She responded. She was giving into the potion, finding it easier to hide behind it's effects and disassociate herself a little from her words. These were things she had never said out loud before.

"Why do you want to join the order?" asked another man with a scarred face and deep bags under his eyes.

"Because I want him to fail, I want everything to go back to normal. He can't win, we-." she was interrupted

"How many people have you tortured?" Sirius asked quickly, cutting into her response, catching her by surprise.

"Ten people" she said automatically, her blood cooling

"Would you kill your sister? The Tonks? If he ordered it?" Sirius fired off,

She balked, "I would sooner die than harm that family." she said just as quickly. This was wrong, he was talking too fast, she couldn't stop herself from answering.

"How many people have you killed?" Sirius asked finally.

"Eight," The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She froze as she realised her mistake, her face paling as she looked frantically around the room in a panic

It was quiet for a moment, as everyone processed what had just happened. And then the room erupted into a cacophony of sounds, some shouting at Sirius Black for stepping out of bounds and others demanding she be asked to leave immediately.

Dora was silent. So was Charlie. Each quietly processing the words.

Cassiopeia squeezed her eyes shut cursing herself and cursing Sirius Black. She had killed eight people, she hadn't even realised she had updated the count. She had killed three as a child, Luka last year, her former guardian when she took her mark, and three traitors, deserters who left the Dark Lord.

She knew their names. She knew their stories. She remembered each and every person.

"Enough." Dumbledore said firmly, standing up and glaring angrily at Sirius Black. "That is enough. Miss Lestrange here trusted us to not take advantage of her, and we have failed to respect her. I will have no more questions."

"We deserve to know just who we are inviting into our organisation. She is a murderer, we suspected it, and now we can confirm it. She has no business here and can not be trusted." Sirirus responded fiercely, glaring down at her, his lip curled in disgust.

"We cant end it like that," Dora protested, finally finding her voice. "We haven't even given her a proper chance," she said. "Ending it now puts an undue bias against her, let her speak."

The room turned chaotic once more as people argued amongst themselves, shouting at each other and taking one of the two sides. It was a passionate debate and one that would get them nowhere.

And through it all she felt one set of eyes on her, one of the few people not taking part of the arguments. Charlie Weasley.

She had enough.

She slammed her fist onto the table with all of her might, the subsequent bang was enough to grab nearly everyone's attention.

"How much longer will I be under this bloody potion's effect Snape?" she asked.

Snape calmly pulled out a watch from his pocket, examining it closely. "Another three or so minutes. No more than five." he said.

She nodded. That was enough.

"Good. I want to say something, and understand that I am speaking under the influence of the strongest truth serum known to wizarding kind.

I am not a good person. I have never pretended to be a good person, that is something very kind, naive, and idealist people like my-like Dora here has labelled me as. Black is right. I have served the Dark Lord since I was eight years old, I spied for him, I have tortured for him, and as you all now know, I have killed for him.

But that does not mean I enjoy it, or even want to do any of this. I just want to go back to my old job, in the basement of St Mungos, and break curses. That is not an option for me. I had a choice, to die painfully under his wand, or worse, my mothers wand or return to the Dark Lord and do his bidding.

I made a third option, to help you lot stop me and stop them. I have access to him and the inner circle that Snape could only dream of, I will be privy to everything that is going on, and my position puts me above nearly all others. I can give you information, warning about attacks, about political maneuvers so you can mitigate the damages. You can save people, get them out of my way."

"And what about your obligation to him?" Sirius asked darkly, still glaring at her.

"So you'll lose some battles. It's a war Black, you can't win them all. At least this way we will know which plans are compromised and we can plan accordingly, perhaps avoid casualties all together."

The room was quiet as they processed her words.

"How do you sleep at night?" Sirius asked

"I think everyone here who knows me can attest that I do not sleep very well at all Black." she said stiffly, "The potion is wearing off now, I can feel it. Have your bloody vote, I'll take my leave if that's alright?" she asked.

"What will happen to you if you are not successful in your bid?" It was Mrs Weasley who asked, looking pale and anxious.

Cassiopeia shrugged, trying to ignore the pang of some warm emotion in her chest. "Don't worry about that, it will affect your judgement." she said,

"Thank you Miss Lestrange. I believe that is enough for now." Dumbledore said.

She nodded, standing up and grabbed her cloak. With a final nod she apparated out of the headquarters to Dora's flat.

All was silent for a moment after she left, each person in the kitchen thinking through her words deeply and deciding on how they should vote.

"If she carries out his punishments who punishes her? You Know Who himself?" asked Charlie quietly, looking at Snape.

Severus shrugged, "If she is lucky the Dark Lord would punish her himself. His punishments are severe but efficient, quick and brutal. He is too busy for drawn out affairs. For something of this magnitude it would be her mother, and she would be at her mercy for days i'd imagine. The woman appears to savour punishing her daughter. She takes the opportunity to do some experimentation while she is at it." he said darkly, his face carefully blank.

He had heard rumours of the punishments she had already suffered at the hands of her parents. It was remarkable that her mind had not yet slipped into insanity from the combination of physical and psychological anguish she had been put through.

Yet. It was remarkable that her mind had not slipped yet he amended mentally.

Xxx

She was unable to stay still in Dora's flat, she was restless and anxious. She tried to listen to her favourite records, but even that was failing to calm her.

They knew, Dora now knew her darkest secret. She had killed people, she was a cold blooded murderer. She was tainted, a monster.

Charlie knew. He had been there too.

Merlin, she did not deserve their kindness, their faith. And she definitely did not deserve to be in Dora's flat, as if she were a welcome guest. How could she go forward and claim her as a sister now that she knew.

Sure Dora may have always suspected she had hurt people in the past, but murder? And eight people? It was a disaster.

She paced around the flat, trying to decide what to do. How long would it take them to reach the decision? What would she do from here? The Dark Lord had not summoned her, and who knew when he would. Would he find out? Maybe Snape would have to tell him.

She wrote a quick note and pinned it to the door, leaving the flat just as quickly as she arrived. She did not deserve to be there, she was dirtying the place with her presence. She might as well find a pub, get a few drinks in her before the inevitable rejection.

Perhaps the alcohol would numb the punishment she was surely going to receive for her failure when she returned to him. She wasn't sure Dora would stay for long, she reckoned she would have difficulty even being in the same room as her now that she knew. She wondered if she would tell her parents.

Andromeda would be dissapointed but she knew what her sister was like. She was not so innocent or naive to the realities of the Death Eaters. But Ted, the knowledge would probably break him a little, fracture the trust and optimism he carried as part of his outlook on life.

She quickly transfigured her robe into a long coat, something that would not stand out in the muggle world and wandered into the first muggle pub she found, taking a seat at the bar. She did not have any muggle money on her, but she figured she could transfigure something that could pass as such. She had already broken the law, she might as well continue on her streak.

She was four whiskies deep when Dora finally found her, looking both exasperated and exhaustion. She was quiet as she took a seat next to her cousin, ordering a cider for herself.

Cassiopeia ordered another whisky, fearing the worst.

"It was a close vote, but you're in." Dora finally said quietly.

Cassiopeia nearly choked on her whisky in surprise, fully expecting it to go the other way. "Bloody hell. You lot are disgustingly good people." She finally said, taking a smaller drink of her liquor.

Dora grunted a little, taking another long pull from her drink.

The girls sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts as they processed the nights results.

"Do you hate me?" Cassiopeia finally asked quietly, drunk enough to ask the question.

Dora's eyes brows furrowed and her face pinched as she thought of her response.

"I don't hate you Cass. I don't really know what I feel truthfully. I am shocked, horrified and a little sick. I am also sorry that this is how everything has played out. I do hate your parents and I hate him for turning you into this." she said finally, her voice low.

Cassiopeia huffed, her face twisting as she finished another drink. "You should hate me. You don't even know the details or the circumstances. I have a monster in me, the profound ability to destroy and to cause pain. There is a reason why he values me so." She said harshly, ordering more liquor from the barman.

Dora glanced at her sister quickly, before looking back at her own cider, frowning deeply. She desperately wanted to know more, but also understood knowing came with it's own burdens. "You are not a monster Cass. I know you've always thought that, but you are not very self aware. You have the profound ability to do good as well. I've seen you, you care about other people, their wellbeing." She wasn't sure whether she was trying to convince Cassiopeia or herself.

"I killed my first person when I was eight and a half years old Dora. With a knife. I severed an artery." She hissed, her head swimming and her mood black. Her sister was too bloody optimistic, she saw the good in everyone, even her. She needed to know.

Dora looked around the pub nervously, noticing the shocked faces from a few muggles around her. "Perhaps we should continue this back at my flat." she said smoothly, "I think your jokes are getting a bit dark," she said louder, hoping the muggles wrote her off as another drunkard.

She scoffed and reluctantly climbed off the barstool, very narrowly losing her balance as she did. "Come on," she threw a wad of muggle money on the bar and grabbed her elbow firmly, half carrying the girl out the door and apparating back to her flat.

"No, Lemme find another place to sleep Dora. I can't be here, I will only ruin things." she slurred.

"Nonsense Cass. You're family and family takes care of each other."

"How can you say that knowing what you do?"

"Because I don't know how to feel Cass alright? I don't know what to think, I don't want to think about it." Dora snapped, losing her patience with the girl.

"You can't hide from it Dora. There is a war coming and all of those uncomfortable truths will become more and more relevant. I am one of the bad people. When this is all over you will have to lock me up in Azkaban, for life. That is if I escape the dementors kiss."

"It won't come to that," she said stiffly.

"It will come to that, hopefully. I deserve to be there. They should have locked me up all those years ago, I did not deserve to have the life I did. The freedoms of youth. I should have been with my parents, in a cell, losing my mind."

"Cass, you cant take sole responsibility for things you have done under the threat of punishment. It's not fair."

"Oh Dora-I killed someone last year. Sure- he provoked me, but that was all me." she said tiredly, still trying to find her way out of the house.

Dora look pained as she stopped the girl from leaving, her face chalk white and her hair darkening in worry. "Please-just go to sleep. We can discuss this when you are not so intoxicated yeah?"

Cassiopeia shook her head, huffing in frustrating before throwing herself onto Dora's couch, cuddling with one of her blankets, feeling miserable.

Dora was too good of a person. If she wasn't careful it would get her killed.

"Thank you for helping me, even after everything. Just-thank you."

"Of course Cass, we're still family." Dora said quietly before retiring to her room.

"I love you," Cassiopeia whispered into the dark and empty room, her heart aching as she thought about the nights results. She had gotten what she had wanted, but the price had been great.

 _A/N Another chapter! I wasn't quite sure of the nitty gritty details of this one and am curious to hear your thoughts. Thank you all for the review from_ _AvalonTheLadyKiller- This story started after being inspired from a psychological ish podcast invisibilia, and the whole time through all three chapters I have tried to focus a lot on the psyche of this character-from the feelings of love and yearning for love as a child, frames of references for what is normal for a family-in the second part we looked at compartmentalisation, Cassiopeia actively trying to change herself or hide parts of herself so she could have friends-this allowing her to be manipulated and used by people like Glynn Gambol. Now we are seeing the Dark Lord actively using some strong mind control/manipulation tactics that are the real deal, and her struggling with all of the different parts that she is ready to hide. This is a turning point for Cassiopeia, as she starts to come into the reality of her life, her circumstances, and as she figures out just what she is going to do about it and how she is going to assert her own personal independence and identity._

 _Hope you enjoyed and I am always looking forward to any reviews! Thoughts/questions/ critiques all of it is appreciated!_


	13. Chapter 13: Black and White

Dora was troubled.

She was also very angry, mainly at the blindness of the ministry and the cowardice of the minister.

But mostly she was troubled.

How quickly her world had changed, how the whole world changed. When she signed on to be an auror she had thought she'd be hunting down criminals, busting up black market trade deals, and maybe the odd murder.

But the world was at war. The world wasn't cognisant of that fact yet but it did not make it any less true.

More though, she was troubled by her sister. She had hated the girl, she had thought all sorts of nasty things about her, she was sure she would break the law with her recklessness and dark curiosity. But she had never, ever suspected the true depth of her criminality.

She had admitted it herself. She had killed, not once but many times. There were families in this world that were broken because of her sister. And with that knowledge she couldn't bring herself to hate her. She tried, she genuinely tried to kindle those past feelings of anger and resentment. She tried to distance herself from her, she tried to be indifferent whenever they crossed paths at Order meetings. But she couldn't do it.

She knew more now, mitigating factors. She had read reports on her childhood. She had researched her parents. What type of childhood did she have? How was she still sane?

And was she sane? Could she be truly trusted? Was she being naive putting her faith in someone like her?

You-Know-Who meddled with her mind, Snape had alluded to it and she had admitted to it. She was back under her mother's thrall, a woman she did not and could not hate.

What has she said? She didn't understand her feelings towards her mother? What had Bellatrix been like? What was she like?

Cassiopeia left a void in her family, now that she was gone. She had spent a lot of time with them, meeting weekly with both her parents and making time for Dora as well.

And what was that like? Spending time with family feeling certain she was on borrowed time? She had known that the You-Know-Who was out there, she had even told Dora as much when they had patched up their relationship.

She had been prepared to his return. She had another house, she bought her parents a flat in France, a chance to escape the war. She was resigned to her fate, accepting her role. She was different now. Broken. And a touch inhuman.

"You're thinking about Cass," a voice said quietly, interrupting her dark thoughts. It was her mum, coming into the kitchen. Dora had come over for dinner, trying to fill the role her sister played in her parents' lives.

She nodded, "How did you know?"

"Your hair. You never could hide your emotions from your hair." Andromeda ruffled her daughter's hair gently before taking a seat across from her. "Would you like to talk about it?" She asked trying to catch her eye.

She really did not want to talk about it, and yet she was bursting with so much emotion she needed some sort of validation.

"I just don't understand mum. Why did she have to go back?" She let some of her frustration and hopelessness fill her voice.

Andromeda sighed, her eyes watching her keenly as she thought about the best way to phrase her answer, "She never had a choice Dora. She did what she had to do," her mum sounded so matter of fact about it, almost bland in her observation.

"How can you be so blasé about this? Didn't you ever love her? Or at least care for her a bit?" She asked desperately

Her mother's eyes flashed dangerously at the accusation. "Of course I love her Dora. I love her as much as you. Don't you ever think I don't care for that girl." She said lowly.

Dora could see how her mum was related to Bellatrix. In that moment they looked very similar. No wonder Cass always preferred Ted's company after a nightmare.

She softened with a sigh, slumping in her chair and running a hand through her own curls. "There is a lot you don't understand Dora. I'm thankful that you don't, that you have lived a life free of the darkness and duty of pure blood life. You don't understand her obligations and the consequences of failure.

I understand her reasons, but that does nothing to ease the soul crushing guilt and pain that I feel by not being enough to protect her, to shield her." Dora saw it then, the anguish and dismay on her face. Just as quickly as it had come, it left. Her mother carefully controlling her emotions and outward expression of them.

Silence hung in the kitchen, each woman lost in thought.

"She doesn't hate her, mum. She— I think a part of her loves her even," Dora mused quietly, trying to get her head around the concept.

"Of course she loves her Dora. She's her mother, nothing could ever change that." She sounded surprised at her daughter's observation, speaking as if that fact should be obvious.

"But she—" Dora swallowed thickly, her face twisting as she thought about the things she knew now, the things Cass told her, the information she read in her files, "she hurt her. Tortured her. Forced her into doing terrible things mum. She—she's done awful things because that woman made her."

Her mum sighed deeply, looking very serious and solemn. "She also comforted her, healed her. The more she was punished the more she craved her affection. She wanted to make her proud, to earn that attention because otherwise she was all alone."

"But how? How could anyone feel anything except hate when thinking of Bellatrix Lestrange?" She asked fiercely, glaring into the table.

"Do you think I hate my sister?" Her mum asked suddenly, as if the thought had never occurred to her.

"Wh—Of course you do. She's the reason you and dad had to go into hiding."

Her mum gave her a small indulgent smile, as if she was dealing a small novelty instead of something so serious. "I don't hate my sister Dora. I don't hate either of them. I love them both, flaws and all. What I hate is pure blood prejudice and traditions. And most of all I hate him—the Dark Lord for taking away my family." She could see the anger as she spoke, the venom dripping from her tone as she spoke about You-Know-Who. Only she called him the Dark Lord. A title only his followers used.

"She's enamoured by him. Terrified but enthralled. I can tell," Dora said quietly.

"I don't blame her." Andromeda said crisply, folding her hands on the kitchen table, looking off into nowhere as she remembered "He is rather terrifying and breathtaking. Charming when he wants to be, powerful and engaging. He has a way of speaking as if you were the most important thing in the universe. And yet being around him is like standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down at certain doom. That terror and adrenaline is seductive to some."

Dora stared at her mum, totally mystified and a little disturbed at the side she was seeing. She sounded almost...wistful as she gazed off into the distance. And she also spoke of him as if she were very familiar. Andromeda smiled sadly when her daughter pointed this out.

"Of course I've met him Dora. In passing mind you, I was never the thrill seeker my sister was. He was a guest at our house, before the war, before the attacks. When he was just a man, quietly gaining influence and followers. My father was a financial backer of his—the Blacks in general were very big supporters. Myself and cousin Sirius were something of outliers. Sirius was outwardly rebellious, I was—uncertain. I had met your father and he had challenged everything I knew and believed. Bella though—" she trailed off, frowning at the memory.

"He was everything she was looking for in life. He gave her power, attention, influence, responsibility. But mostly, he gave her purpose. Bella was always bored and destined for something greater- it's a shame this is the way she went. And that she's dragged such a beautiful young woman into her web." Her mother finished bitterly, scowling darkly at the table.

Dora didn't know what to say. She was shocked and a little horrified as she heard her mother speak. She felt numb and very much would rather be talking about anything other than her aunt and her cousin.

"Will she be alright?" She asked quietly

"I don't know Dora. I really can't say."

"Will we be alright?" She gazed at her mother, wishing she had all the answers.

"Merlin I hope so."

Silence fell on the women again, each lost in their own dark thoughts.

"She's hurt people." Dora whispered it

"I know," her mum's voice was small.

"Before she came to us I mean." Dora said

"I suspected as much," Andromeda remained quiet.

Finally, the thing that Dora found the most troubling, the fact that kept her up at night.

"She's tortured people. Killed them."

"I feared so." Her mom spoke so quietly Dora almost missed it.

"You knew and you still let her in?" She asked incredulously.

"She was a child. A lonely, terrified child who only ever wanted someone to love her." Andromeda's eyes were wide as she remembered, as she tried to find a way to show her daughter, to make her understand her decision to bring Cassiopeia home.

"Dromeda? Dora?" Ted's voice interrupted the two women.

Her mother sniffed loudly, standing abruptly as she wiped her eyes. "How about tea then?" She said with false cheerfulness, moving herself to the cooker, her eyes a thousand miles away.

Dora was staring at her mother, perplexed and a little disturbed at how well she could control and conceal her emotions. Had she been doing that her whole life? Had she ever truly known her mother? It was then that she realised she truly never really spoke about her childhood, living in the Black household. It was a topic that was never brought up.

"It's hard to hate someone you've loved, even family. You can feel sad, angry, even shame. But hate is a very strong emotion Dora. Don't hate your sister, help her." She almost missed it her mum's low words as she turned away from Dora

"Ted darling, how was work?" She asked brightly, turning around to greet her husband with a wide smile, all traces of their earlier conversation were gone.

Dora thought about what her mother said at the next order meeting as she sat quietly, listening to her sisters report.

"He's planning something. Something big with the ministry to get that thing he is obsessed about." She said to the order.

Dora watched the scepticism on the faces of those around her before turning to look at her sister. She pretended that the looks didn't bother her, but she could tell they did. It was the way she was sitting, the clenching in her jaw and how she had her eyes narrowed just so. It really bothered her.

"Lucius is spearheading the operation. My mother is helping but he's preparing for battle. I'm being prepared for a fight. He won't tell me details of the operation only to be ready and that it will be soon enough." She spoke plainly, her face carefully blank as she controlled her emotions.

Dora saw her mother a little in the way Cassiopeia controlled herself. Andromeda had shown herself to be a master of emotional control, and Cassiopeia was no different. Dora could tell though, she always could. She could feel her concern oozing off of her sister. Nobody else did though.

The everyone else she was just cold and succinct. She supposed her sisters life now depended on her ability to remain calm in a stressful situation.

"You are supposed to be his left hand, what good are you if you can't give us details," Sirius growled. Dora glared at Sirius, he had never respected her sister. He didn't understand the pressures she was under, he couldnt see past her name.

"It's more than you have been contributing. How's the boggart situation Black?" She sniped back. It was below the belt but she didn't care much.

"He's planning something. It's not just my mind he walks through. He is trying to get into Potter's head. He's—" Dora felt sick as she watched her sister's face pale a little, noticing the slightest tremble in her hand, "He's experimenting heavily." She finished.

He was experimenting on her is what she meant to say. Her anger returned in full force, and her frustration. What had this girl done to deserve that? To be used as a lab rat by another wizard. She hated him, she hated this war, and she raged inwardly at the injustice of it all.

"The boy is thick headed with no respect for authority or boundaries. There is nothing that can be taught to him." Snape growled.

The meeting continued, with Sirius jumping back into the fray, insulting Snape now. She stopped listening.

Dora watched her sister glare at Sirius black. There was something more than dislike between the two. Dora suspected Sirius genuinely despised her. And it seemed Cassiopeia's feeling regarding the man were not exactly warm.

She could see the anger and frustration building in Cassiopeia, the way she pulled in to herself and the way her eyes focused and her body stilled. They were warning signs, unconscious signals she emitted when she was close to violence.

"Enough Black," Dora interrupted, putting her hand gently on her sisters arm, ignoring the way this made her tense further.

"Enough of this petty squabbling. We all have our roles to play, no use in fighting amongst ourselves about it. I've been keeping an eye on several known death eaters and associates. They have been unusually reserved and careful to remain under the radar. I am waiting for them to slip up and major mistake that can be exploited." She continued on her report, keeping half an eye on Cassiopeia.

She was quicker to anger now, and her anger felt different than it ever did before. Dora was certain the girl was in her own personal hell and was apparently not handling it well.

"When was the last time you ate Cass?" Dora asked quietly after grabbing the girls arm at the end of the meeting. She would not allow her to hide herself away entirely. She cared too much about her to let her wallow in pain and self loathing for too long. And she worried about her mental well being. Cassiopeia was not broken, but she wasn't indestructible. If she gave herself fully to the Dark lord they would have a very difficult fight ahead.

Cassiopeia shrugged, keeping her eyes averted. "Had brunch with Narcissa," She muttered.

Brunch implied it was a late morning meal. Narcissa told her she was talking about the previous day. Cassiopeia always got brunch with that woman every Sunday. It was now

Monday night.

"Brunch this morning or yesterday?" She asked, knowing the answer.

The girls dark glare and blush confirmed it.

"Come over and have some food, I'm sure I can whip up something without meat in it."

Cassiopeia tried to find an excuse not to unsuccessfully and the girls departed toghether, each silent in their own thoughts.

Their relationship was fractured, Dora felt it keenly and she knew her sister was feeling uncomfortable by the way she was fidgeting. She was on edge, her eyes darting around as they entered her apartment, always looking, ever vigilant.

"Wine? Beer?" she called from the kitchen, grabbing a beer for herself and her sister, knowing her answer already.

Silence hung between the women once more.

"I was thinking of ordering a take away, fancy chinese?" Dora finally broke the silence, noticing the way her sister had positioned herself to be firmly against the wall, facing all of the entrances fully.

"I fancy food I think." she muttered.

Dora put on a record from her stolen record collection, just to fill the silence with something since conversation did not seem to come naturally to the two girls.

For the first time she saw her sister relax, at least a fraction as the sound filled her small flat.

"I stole this record I think," she said, her eyes distant as she listened to the record. "It was only like two quid or something, but it was more than I had. So I knicked it." she continued.

Dora was quet as she spoke, unwilling to break the small bit of calm that came over her sister.

"It was from that time when I ran away, I think it's actually one of my oldest records truthfully. Bluurg right?"

"I think so," Dora said quietly.

"I used to listen to this, on cassette, on repeat for hours. Especially when I couldnt sleep, the next song just felt so prescient, so bloody spot on. I dunno what he was talking about personally, I guess it wasn't literal for him. It was for me obviously."

Dora listened to the song, thinking about her words. It was about watching death, and the nightmares that accompanied it.

She knew Cassiopeia found refuge in music, she always had for as long as she could remember, however this was the first time Dora had ever pieced together the lyrics, the sounds, and the emotions in the music was what calmed her.

She reeled in the new information, feeling as if she was uncovering a hidden facet of her sisters personality, of her emotions, and anger. Her music was angry, it was frustrated, it was hopeless, it was violent, indulgent, and reckless.

It was everything she was.

They ate their food quietly, lost in the music, with their only interruptions coming from the end of a record side. Dora let Cassiopeia choose the music, pleased the see the girl looking a little more relaxed and a little less hunted.

It was a long time after they finished their respective meals, when both girls found their eyes heavy with sleep and head full with alochol did they finally part ways. Cassiopeia tensed once more, her eyes darting around as she stepped back into her paranoia and hostility. Even with her defenses up, Dora could see the words she was not able to say. The gratefulness and love in her sisters eyes, mixed with pain and guilt of their circumstances.

"You're family Cass, nothing can change that." Dora said, embracing her sister tightly. Cassiopeia tensed, inhaling sharply at the contact, nearly trembling under her arms but Dora refused to relent. She needed to understand that family was permanent. And that she was a Tonks.

Dora felt sick as she thought about the crimes her sister committed, she was troubled by her own feelings towards the girl, at her conflicted emotions as she held someone she knew had murdered.

They were in the middle of a war, and Dora did not have the luxury to hate her sister. She would deal with those crimes as the war ended, but for now, they needed to stick together, for the good of the wizarding world.

Cassiopeia slowly returned the embrace, carefully wrapping her arms around nymphadora, never quite relaxing all the way, but at least making an effort.

Dora's conflicted feelings increased ten fold as she did that, understanding that she might be complicit in the crimes her sister committed. She was a member of law enforcement, and she not only knowingly harboured a criminal, she actively ignored the crimes that were committed.

In war things were never black and white. Dora was finally learning exactly what that meant.

xxx

Cassiopeia found a new rhythm to life now she was free of her nightly training obligations. It took a few weeks for Cassiopeia to settle, her paranoia of the Dark Lord's ever watching eye was very present. But soon she realised that he really wasn't watching her closely and he was not having her followed.

Why would he? He already owned her, her had seen her mind and conquered it. She was his.

She worked with Lima, her solicitor, very closely as time passed. Lima knew everything, she was probably the only person Cassiopeia had ever truly and fully opened up to in her life. She had many roles and was working on a variety of projects.

Lima was solemn as she worked, her parents had lived under a muggle dictatorship and had to flee their country to the UK because of their activism and politics. Lima grew up hearing those stories, understanding just how quickly things can change. She was Cassiopeia's confidant, and she chronicled her crimes.

Cassiopeia accepted that she was a murderer, guilty of the most heinous of crimes. She confessed them to Lima, who dutifully recorded her full confessions, and when the time came, Cassiopeia would turn herself in. If she died before the war ended, Lima was under strict orders to release her confessions. The world had to know, the families she tore apart needed that closure.

Lima helped her with less dark things as well, though no less important. They were planning, carefully diverting the direct flow of money from the Lestrange vaults and refocused on the charities that could generate money in other ways. They were also planning if things got bad and Lima had to flee the country. She was after all a muggleborn witch, and before she had become Cassiopeia's full time, exclusive solicitor, she had made more than a few enemies with powerful members of the wizarding world.

Cassiopeia bought her a flat in France as well, in Calais. It was the shortest distance between England and France, she could apparate there if needed, or even charter a muggle to ferry her across on a boat. She made sure Lima had her muggle documentation in date and a bag packed, just in case. Lima thought she was ridiculous but complied if only to make her feel better.

She had not been in the country during the last wizarding war, she did not understand how quickly things could change, and that muggleborns would be the first to go. Or maybe she did understand and was too optimistic to believe that the sort of things that had happened in her birth country could happen here, in the UK.

When she wasn't plotting with Lima, working for the Order, or training with the Dark Lord and her mother, she was spending time with her Aunt Narcissa, often eating out but occasionally sitting in at the manor. Now that she was no longer working full time she understood Narcissa's urges to always go out, to try new restaurants or go shopping. She needed something to fill the days.

Her aunt made her feel normal, like her life wasn't falling apart at the seams and it made the terrors and fears of the upcoming war seem very far away.

Narcissa made all of her worries fade to the back in a way that no one else could. And she treasured these moments.

On one particular afternoon she was at the Malfoy Manor, basking in the sunshine in Narcissa's sun room, enjoying tea and the usual prattle of conversation.

Not that it wasn't empty conversation, quite the opposite in fact. They were going through the latest investment portfolio put together by her solicitor. Narcissa was a font of knowledge when it came to the comings and goings of the wizarding world. She knew which businesses were suffering and was pretty sharp at guessing markets that were going to boom. Her insight combined with Lima's work meant the Lestrange vaults were doing very well, gaining more in investment yields than it had perhaps ever had. It kept Cassiopeia's mind busy to work on this, and the busier she kept, the less she could think of the realities of her life.

Investment conversation had waned and her aunt was now scolding her on her wardrobe, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"I suppose I could go shopping with you aunty," she relented finally, giving the woman a small smirk.

"I have the perfect restaurant we can try. And perhaps I'll invite along a friend for you to meet." She was scheming, her eyes shining and her smile perfectly innocent.

"No. Absolutely not." Cassiopeia said firmly, giving her aunt a very serious look now.

"Absolutely not what?" Asked another voice at the door, startling the two women.

"Bella," Narcissa said warmly, "come, join us. I was just telling your daughter about a lovely young man I met who I think would be a perfect match."

"Is that so?" Bellatrix asked, looking between her sister and daughter curiously. Cassiopeia remained quiet, focussing in her tea, keeping her eyes averted from her mother.

She seemed calm, normal. But she was often unpredictable. Her last punishment was a very present memory.

"I'm too busy for boys right now aunty," she said quietly, throwing half a glance at her mother

Her mother was relaxed, reclining in her chair, full of good humour.

"Nonsense. When was the last time you were seeing anyone? I take it things didn't work out with your mystery man?" Narcissa teased

"Mystery man?" Bellatrix perked up, a small smirk finding its way to her face.

"And just who might he be?" She asked

"He wasn't anyone important. I ended it months ago." Cassiopeia said firmly, finding her voice once more.

Her aunt appeared to calm her mother. She was safe for now.

"Oh but he must have been good at some things. You were positively glowing," Narcissa teased, winking. Cassiopeia flushed at her aunt's suggestive observation. She wasn't wrong, she and Charlie had been very compatible.

"Cassiopeia here never tells me about her gentlemen friends anymore Bella. She's rather secretive."

"It's not that Narcissa. The last time I told you about a boy you crashed our first date." She

"Somebody has to ensure you are seeing suitable suitors. Merlin knows they could never do it," her nose wrinkled in disgust as she spoke, referencing the Tonks.

A flash of something very dangerous crossed Bellatrix face, causing Cassiopeia to stiffen as a bolt of fear lanced through her body.

The look disappeared as quickly as it came as Narcissa continued, "Merlin knows what I nightmare that became. Lucius of course continues his rivalry with Gambol at work. His son was married not to long ago I heard," Narcissa continued.

"Glynn married?" Cassiopeia asked, surprised. Poor girl.

"Oh yes. Arlene Roberts, she's around your age." She said airily, pouring herself more tea.

Cassiopeia snorted, leaning forward to snatch a biscuit from the table. "What a couple they must make. A loathsome vulture like him with a cow like her," she took a bite of her biscuit.

"You know her then, I guess she was in Slytherin." Narcissa amended.

"We shared a dorm and we got into a lot of fights at school. She hates me. I suppose that's something they have in common." Cassiopeia said, leaning back now that she was full and content.

"You're 23 years old darling. I'm not saying you should get married but you should be having fun. You deserve it," Narcissa gushed.

"And it is a fantastic way to relieve stress Cassie," her mother added much to her mortification.

"I—I'm not having this conversation right now," her face was bright red now.

It wasn't so much the topic that embarrassed her. Cassiopeia was quite liberal in talking about and partaking in sex. Her mother was right, it was excellent stress relief. It was more who she was talking with. She had never thought such subjects would ever come up in passing let alone in conversation over tea.

"I met the perfect gentleman for you Cass. He is handsome, very fit, capable young wizard at a social function a few weeks ago. I think you two would get on like a house on fire. He reminded me a lot of you. A kind of rough charm."

"Cheers for that," She muttered lowly.

"Do it for me?" Narcissa pouted

"And you only need one night with him," Bellatrix was smirking, mischief sparkling in her eyes as she lifted her eyebrows suggestively.

"Maybe a few nights with him Bella, Cass here is very stressed and Jovius looks very fit." Narcissa added, sharing a smile with her sister.

Cassiopeia's mortification grew when she heard the name.

"Not Caecilius Jovius?" She asked

"Why yes, you know him? Tell me he wasn't your secret suitor?" Narcissa asked, fully grinning now at the prospect of fresh gossip.

"What? No! I mean we worked together briefly," she mumbled.

"Excellent, common ground then. What job was that?" Narcissa asked curiously.

"Small contract stuff, nothing important. But Jovius is definitely not my type."

"What is your type then darling? Gambol was handsome I suppose, in a very intellectual way."

What was her type? Ginger and tall she reckoned. Or anonymous and available. There was no use in thinking about it because she simply did not have the time for relationships.

"I'll go shopping with you Narcissa if it's just us" she said firmly.

Narcissa pouted, "fine," she sighed dramatically, "I just think we need to find you a suitor. You need someone who can match you wit for wit, spell for spell. And it's clear you haven't been proactive in the search."

"Please Narcissa. It's not a good time. Let's just got shopping and try that restaurant." She asked once more.

"If you insist," she relented.

"How's Draco?" Cassiopeia asked, trying to change the topic.

"He's doing fantastic, been given a special position as part of an inquisitorial squad. Sounds like Hogwarts it finally getting something right now that Dumbledore is gone."

"Who's in charge now?" She asked genuinely curious. Dumbledore has been mostly absent from the Order meetings, off on his own projects.

"Some toad of a woman. But she's at least got the right idea and sees just how valuable Draco is,"

Narcissa continued on about her son, the love and pride shining through every word. Not for the first time Cassiopeia wondered how her life could've been if her own mother had been more like Narcissa.

Draco had been enough for Lucius and Narcissa. Cassiopeia was not and is not enough for her parents.

She did take their advice in however, perhaps not in the way they had intended though.

She was on her way out from an Order meeting, a particularly uncomfortable one for her, as not only did she have to give her report under the horrified stare of Dora who still insisted on having a relationship. Charlie had also been there.

She rarely saw him as he was unable to attend most meetings because he lived and worked out of the country. When he did manage to make a meeting he would stare at her, rather intensely and uncomfortably. There was something in his eyes, an emotion she did not want to understand.

She hadn't spoken to him, not since she sent that letter months ago from the Tonks household. She always left quickly when he attended meetings, and she worked very hard to ignore his very existence when she was there. She also had to ignore the looks of concern from the other Weasleys in the room.

Something in him must've snapped a little because after the meeting he was pushing himself up out of his chair, and rushed past everyone as he tried to intercept her on the way to the door.

Cassiopeia pretended to ignore him, but she was very aware of his location at all times. She was also a highly paranoid person who caught on to what he was going to do and changed tack a little bit, letting a few people out ahead of her to act as a barrier between herself and Charlie Weasley.

She had miscalculated. She thought he wanted to talk, to suggest they go somewhere private. Instead she felt him grab the edge of her cloak, reaching across a few people, and follow her through her apparition to her first location.

She spun in anger and shock when she landed, looking at the boy as he stood defiantly in her gaze.

"Are you a bloody idiot? Do you have a death wish? I could have been going anywhere, directly to the Dark Lord himself!" she yelled at him while standing in an empty field in the countryside.

He had a stupid grin on his face, looking very pleased with himself and amused at the flock of sheep that was surrounding them.

"It would be worth it," he said.

"It would be your death, at probably my hands. Don't you ever make me hurt you like that," she gave him an angry slap on the arm. She was incensed, what he had done was very risky, he could've splinched himself, or he could've lost him grip and ended up Merlin knows where.

His grin fell off his face as he looked at her very seriously, "you never go directly to your location, you always apparate to a few dummy locations, because you are ridiculous."

"You had no way of knowing I still did that," she retorted, giving him an angry glare, her chest heaving.

He shrugged, "A calculated risk. Besides, I always liked you when you were angry, you get all huffy." His eyes twinkled as he teased her, his grin half returning.

She gaped at him, a calculated risk? Huffy? Had he always been mental?

"I do not get huffy," she huffed, her face turning red with her anger. She was absolutely not huffy.

"And a calculated risk? What kind of thestral shite is that?"

He shrugged again, stepping a little closer to her as a sheep nudged up against him. "We need to talk Cass. Really talk."

She paled, she did not want to talk. She did not want to ever talk. She couldn't talk to him.

"No. I've said everything I needed to."

"You've said nothing." he said, his face now flushing with the beginnings of his anger and frustration.

"I wrote you a letter, what don't you understand?" She was tempted to just apparate to her next destination, but he was close. Too close. He would catch on and follow her there.

"You wrote me three words then disappeared. What kind of dragons dung is that?" he cursed, "We had something special Cassiopeia, and I know you felt that, I know you feel the same way I do."

She laughed harshly, "Charlie grow up, we were fucking. Yes it was fun, but it wasn't much more than fucking and hanging out before and after." she felt wounded even as she said it, looking at the pain on his face.

"That's a lie and you know it," he said harshly, stepping even closer to her so their fronts were brushing.

"Charlie, I am not a good person. You need to get over it and find someone else." She said quietly, her anger turning into something different as he kept getting closer to her.

Merlin he was good looking. She felt the familiar warmth of desire fill her as she looked at him. He dressed simply, practical clothes for the outdoors, and yet the way they clung to his muscles- she found it distracting.

He smirked as he caught her looking him over. "You're still attracted to me." he said softly.

"Fuck off Weasley." She growled, taking a step back.

"Yes, of course I find you attractive. I did sleep with you- a lot. But things are different now, I am different now. I have this," she rolled up her cloak, showing him the grotesque red skull and snake on her arm.

Cassiopeia flinched back as Charlie reached out to caress her dark mark sadly, his face troubled. Nobody had ever touched it, except her mother and the Dark Lord. They touched it reverently, but Charlie's touch was so much more.

"I don't care." he said lowly, catching her eye. "I don't care that it's there. Because I know you Cassiopeia and you are so much more than that mark. You made that decision under the threat of death, what choice was there?" he said.

She was terrified, and speechless. What could she say, how had this boy become so deluded. And why did she feel so warm, so relieved, and so full of some emotion that was building to the point it was almost suffocating.

"I know we cant tell anyone, and I know if anyone found out I would probably be, at the very least, hurt severely. I know the risks Cass, trust me, it's all I've been thinking about. I know the things you need to do to survive, I understand and I know the real you. I don't want to give up on you, on us."

She opened her mouth, but he cut her off, "I know we cant be public, that we won't have what we did before. But please Cass, can we at least try? And maybe after everything, after the war, after everything, we can finally be together?"

She faltered, looking up at him, feeling her carefully controlled emotions reaching a boiling point. She wasn't sure she loved Charlie Weasley, she felt something very strong-emotions that were almost overwhelming in their intensity they would appear.

He was offering her something she could never ask for, he was giving her his acceptance, his understanding, and his affection. He had weighed the risks, the consequences and was asking her to do the same.

She would have to hide him from the Dark Lord, but then how was this much different from the other things she had to hide? Perhaps it wasn't the worst idea, not if he understood what he was getting himself into.

"He would use you against me, if he ever found out." she said quietly, looking at him very seriously.

"I know." he said just as lowly.

"He would torture you, maybe even make me do it, to manipulate me to do much worse. He would make me choose, between you and a family of muggles."

Charlie swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing. "I know," he said, a bit quieter.

"I would do it. I would kill people Charlie Weasley instead of hurting you."

He was quiet, his eyes shining. "We will be careful Cass, I understand the risks."

"I've already killed people Charlie. Can you bear to be with someone so tainted?" She asked again, desperately trying to convince him this was a terrible idea.

"I know you Cass. I have known you for most of my life. I know what sort of person you are,"

Cassiopeia was many things, and not one of them was good. She was brash, self centred, and in this case she was going to lean into one of her many shortcomings. She was going to be selfish.

Closing the distance between them she moved up to kiss him and Charlie responded enthusiastically, clutching her to him tightly, savouring the moment.

She couldn't have her family, her relationship was Dora was probably beyond repair, and she had isolated herself from all of her friends. This was her one thing, the thing that was hers and hers alone. Their secret.

Cassiopeia was going to let herself be selfish- consequences be damned.

Xxx

The Dark Lord was obsessed with the mental arts, with occlumency. And he was obsessed with the Potter boy.

She found it difficult to sleep whenever she stayed at the Malfoy Manor, where he was currently housed. She tried not to stay overnight if she could help it, but she still had obligations to be there, and sometimes he commanded it.

He would torment her in her sleep, going into her room at night and cursing her to a deep slumber. Then he would invade her mind, implanting memories, awful images of murder, death, and destruction. Some of them she was sure were memories and others she hoped were fabricated.

Some were definitely implanted, fabrications of his will and hopes. They were images of her committing awful crimes, magically sealing all the doors and windows of a home before burning it down. Scenes where she cut down Dora and the Tonks as they cried and begged for mercy.

It was awful. But it was isolated at first just to her stays at the Malfoy manor.

But then they started happening at her own home. The awful images must have been coming from him. And yet she knew he was loathe to risk leaving the Malfoy manor often. The ministry was denying his return, doing him a great service. He wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

She was not in an enchanted sleep when it happened at her house, furthering the notion that he was not there physically. And yet she could feel him in her mind, his overwhelming presence slipping away as she woke up from the nightmares.

And then one day they stopped.

She wasn't sure if she was relieved or nervous for what that meant. Perhaps a bit of both.

It was the end of spring and early summer, Hogwarts would be getting out soon for the summer. The students would be taking their exams, too stressed to even think about the freedom that was a few short weeks away.

She was at the Order Headquarters when the call came, having dinner with the Bill Weasley and his parents. He wanted her opinion on a new cursed object they found that they suspected might belong to a more careless death eater.

Cassiopeia very nearly dropped the object as her mark seared with a burning pain. The Weasleys paled as they watched her red tattoo turn an inky black, each looking on in concern.

"This might be it, whatever he's planning. Be alert." She said, standing up abruptly and carefully casting a containment field around the cursed object. They didn't know what it did yet and they would rather not find out the easy way.

She ignored the looks of concern and worry in their eyes, the derisive snort from the door of Sirius Black before hurrying out the door to her awaiting master.

When she learned what they had planned she was genuinely worried that they would succeed. Easily. Everything she knew about Potter suggested he would be stupid enough to break into the ministry to rescue someone he loved. It was a good plan.

A bloody good plan with good odds of succeeding.

She hoped Potter wasn't as stupid as he seemed.

Xxx

 _A/N Hey folks, I know its been more than a few weeks I think since I last updated. Life has been crazy and I honestly havent had much time to write. I also realised that there were a few things I skipped accidentally like Arthur Weasley getting attacked by Nagini which was rather silly. I think once I eventually finish this whole story I might go back and re write bits and add in scenes like that._

 _This chapter I really wanted to focus on everyones feelings and emotions. This kind of calm before the storm. I am especially interested in learning a little more about Andromeda. After this story I really want to write a prequel following mainly Bellatrix as she came into power. I have very strong ideas of how she ended up where she was and this story really does not get a chance to touch on Bellatrix's life, situation, and family ties. Her family is mostly dead, and she does not seem like the sort that would discuss this with her daughter._

 _As ever let me know what you think, and hopefully since life has calmed down I can find more time to write!_

 _Thanks,_

 _tibys_


	14. Chapter 14: Department of Mysteries

The Dark Lord was obsessed with the mental arts, with occlumency. And he was obsessed with the Potter boy.

She found it difficult to sleep whenever she stayed at the Malfoy Manor, where he was currently housed. She tried not to stay overnight if she could help it, but she still had obligations to be there, and sometimes he commanded it.

He would torment her in her sleep, going into her room at night and cursing her to a deep slumber. Then he would invade her mind, implanting memories, awful images of murder, death, and destruction. Some of them she was sure were memories and others she hoped were fabricated.

Some were definitely implanted, fabrications of his will and hopes. They were images of her committing awful crimes, magically sealing all the doors and windows of a home before burning it down. Scenes where she cut down Dora and the Tonks as they cried and begged for mercy.

It was awful. But it was isolated at first just to her stays at the Malfoy manor.

But then they started happening at her own home. The awful images must have been coming from him. And yet she knew he was loathe to risk leaving the Malfoy manor often. The ministry was denying his return, doing him a great service. He wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

She was not in an enchanted sleep when it happened at her house, furthering the notion that he was not there physically. And yet she could feel him in her mind, his overwhelming presence slipping away as she woke up from the nightmares.

And then one day they stopped.

She wasn't sure if she was relieved or nervous for what that meant. Perhaps a bit of both.

It was the end of spring and early summer, Hogwarts would be getting out soon for the summer. The students would be taking their exams, too stressed to even think about the freedom that was a few short weeks away.

She was at the Order Headquarters when the call came, having dinner with the Bill Weasley and his parents. He wanted her opinion on a new cursed object they found that they suspected might belong to a more careless death eater.

Cassiopeia very nearly dropped the object as her mark seared with a burning pain. The Weasleys paled as they watched her red tattoo turn an inky black, each looking on in concern.

"This might be it, whatever he's planning. Be alert." She said, standing up abruptly and carefully casting a containment field around the cursed object. They didn't know what it did yet and they would rather not find out the easy way.

She ignored the looks of concern and worry in their eyes, the derisive snort from the door of Sirius Black before hurrying out the door to her awaiting master.

When she learned what they had planned she was genuinely worried that they would succeed. Easily. Everything she knew about potter suggested he would be stupid enough to break into the ministry to rescue someone he loved. It was a good plan.

A bloody good plan with good odds of succeeding.

She hoped Potter wasn't as stupid as he seemed.

Xxx

She was briefed on the plan and her role in it. It didn't matter that she was supposed to be loyal to the Order of the Phoenix, the Dark Lord wanted his left hand there and if that ruined her chances with infiltrating the Order then that was a risk he was willing to take.

Their plan was a few days away from fruition, and she was training heavily with her parents and the other escaped Death Eaters. They were not expecting a tough battle, but the Dark Lord knew Potter well and would prefer to be prepared. Months of planning had gone into this, months of hard undercover work, bribes, and infiltration, it was impertive they got this right.

He did not need to say the or else. They all knew the depth of his displeasure if they failed to get the prophecy from Potter.

She stayed at the Malfoy Manor in the days leading up to the mission. She was not allowed to leave, to contact anyone, she had no way of warning the Order. She just hoped they were watching the idiotic boy or better yet, that the boy wouldnt fall for something so obviously false.

The Dark Lord came to her most nights, toying with her dreams, her memories, sowing nightmares and chaos in her mind as she slept. He was normally gone by the time she woke up, her only hint that he had been there at all was the fullness of her mind that signalled his presence. This morning was different, it was late

Xxx

He was there, she could feel him, the way her body relaxed around him, muscles releasing tension she did not even realise was there. He was in her mind, overwhelming her senses and filling her sinuses. She surrendered to him immediately, just as she always did, and she could tell it pleased him.

She did not know what time it was and it did not matter. He demanded her attention, and she gave it freely, ever obedient. It made her sick, the way she reacted to him, the way he managed to calm her inner turmoil and her barely contained emotions. He was like a balm to her soul, he demanded her, all of her, mind, body, and soul. He took her freedom and her freewill. He took away her agency, and she surrendered to him finding it so easy to just give in.

"How you hate me Little Lestrange," he hissed quietly, drawing closer to her bed, his long fingers tracing the side of her face. "And how your mind betrays you. So hopelessly obedient. I have a present for you." He sat on the edge of her bed, his eyes catching the moonlight shining through her window.

She remained silent. He had not asked her a question and he had spoken the truth. She did hate him. But she was loyal to him. There was no point in arguing it.

He took his wand out of his pocket, bringing it close to her face, pausing a few centimetres from actually touching her skin. She cursed the way her heart raced, not in fear but anticipation. The way she unconsciously leaned forward, almost closing the distance.

He had trained her, her body reacted to him in ways she found abhorrent. And yet it had to be said that with the exception of the first time she saw him, when he gathered her for her parents, he had not harmed her. His wand, and only his wand, brought relief, something that was rare these days. She suspected he had forbidden any of the others from ever helping her, from healing her. He saw to her personally.

He smirked down at her cruelly, enjoying the turmoil in her as her brain warred with her instincts. He had conditioned her well and enjoyed the anguish it brought her. "Stay still Lestrange." he cradled her face with one hand and gently tapped his wand against her skin. He started with her forehead, near her hair line and moved in a circle, tapping different places across her skull. He traced her cheek bones, her chin, around her lips and up and around her nose. He tapped her eyes brows and the edges of her eyes, the further he went the warmer her face felt.

This was intimate, deliberate and gentle. It was obscene, like most of her quiet interactions with him.

He sat back and sighed when he was done, murmuring lowly, transfixed by his spell work knitting across her skin. She held her breath as she felt his magic work, closing her eyes and trying to remain still as she felt a cool liquid spread across her face, and rest heavily, solidifying across her features. It was an uncomfortable feeling but not as bad as she had feared. She could breathe freely, and she did not feel the cold liquid settle against her eyes, suggesting it was safe to open them if she wanted to.

She let out her breath as the Dark Lord lifted the now solidified mass off her face, "A gift from me to you Little Lestrange, my left hand, my loyal soldier." She opened her eyes, feeling hollow as she looked at the silver mask he presented to her, featureless and yet clearly fitted to her face.

It was a work of art, a beautiful piece of wizardry, with intersecting runes finely engraved and interspersed with snakes. He had personalised it for her, pulling inspiration from her tattoos, a chaotic spread when looking close up, but cohesive as a whole.

She felt hollow as she accepted the mask, feeling both lost and terrified at the reality that now faced her. Tomorrow was the day that they were going to launch their attack. It had not felt real until now, she had obviously taken his mark and had killed for him, but she had never been in battle for him. She had never made a move against someone so obviously innocent as Harry Potter.

"Your magic is magnificent my lord." she murmured lowering her eyes respectfully. He didn't need her eye contact to be in her mind, not anymore. He filled her, overwhelmed her senses.

"Of course it is little Lestrange. Rest now, I need you to carry out my will tomorrow," he said, pulling the mask from her hands and resting it against her bedside table.

She nodded, obediently laying back down and closing her eyes, her mind still in turmoil.

She felt alone and afraid. She also felt shame and anger, burning deep in her soul, causing her throat to close and her eyes to burn.

Tomorrow was the day they were going to take the prophecy from Potter. She had been summoned a few days before, to prepare herself and to train. She was briefed on the plan and her role in it. It didn't matter that she was supposed to be loyal to the Order of the Phoenix, the Dark Lord wanted his left hand there and if that ruined her chances with infiltrating the Order then that was a risk he was willing to take.

She had not been allowed to leave the Malfoy Manor under any circumstances, so she had no way of warning Dora of what was to come. She just hoped they were watching the idiotic boy or better yet, that the boy wouldnt fall for something so obviously false.

She passed the time training with her parents and the other escaped Death Eaters. They were not expecting a tough battle, but the Dark Lord knew Potter well and was prepared. Months of planning had gone into this, months of hard undercover work, bribes, and infiltration, it was imperative they got this right.

They all knew what the consequences of failure would be. The Dark Lord's ire was not to be trifled with.

The moment finally came and she found herself in a suspiciously abandoned part of the Ministry, walking beside her parents, stalking through the Department of Mysteries. Cassiopeia was no stranger to the Ministry, having worked there for a short time, but she rarely ever left the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She wasn't even aware of this department until they she had been briefed about the operation.

They waited in the shadows, concealed and prepared, waiting for the boy to come.

"This is it, it's through there," she heard Potter say to someone, his footsteps picking up in anticipation.

Her heart fell as her mother squeezed her hand in anticipation. The boy was not only an idiot, he had not come alone.

"You said it was row ninety-seven" whispered a girl, who was at least trying to keep her voice down.

"Yeah," Potter agreed, halting uncertainly.

Cassiopeia closed her eyes, preparing herself for what was to come.

"We need to go right I think-yes, that's fifty four," The girl whispered.

The footsteps grew louder as they neared her hiding place. Patience the Dark Lord had warned. Potter had to grab the prophecy himself. They could not act before then.

"He should be near here. Anywhere here...really close" Harry muttered and she could hear the anxiety in his voice. Was he beginning to suspect the awful truth she wondered? Was he fearing the worst.

"Somewhere about here-" He was so close to her now, she could touch him if she wanted to. "He might be…." he looked around desperately, "or maybe…" he looked down another corridor. She could feel the panic setting in on him now.

"Harry?" the girl, who she could see now had fuzzy brown hair asked.

"What?" he snarled, losing his patience slightly.

"i-I don't think Sirius is here." she said quietly. Cassiopeia looked at the girl closely. She was smart. Very smart.

The children were silent, waiting for their leader to say something. Cassiopeia counted them with dismay-not only did he bring five of his friends, he brought the youngest two Wealseys. Molly was going to kill her if anything happened to them. That was if Charlie didn't get to her first.

It was Ron who spoke next, he had been looking around the shelves curiously, hoping perhaps to catch a glimpse of Sirius, any hint of where he could be. "Harry," he called.

"What?" Potter snapped, irritated. She could see the flush rising in his face. He knew. He must know.

"Have you seen this?" Ron said, ignoring his friends animosity.

"What?" she was almost amused at how quickly Potter's emotions changed from anger to hope. Had she been as mercurial when she was his age?

It was almost time, his attention was finally being drawn to the thing that brought them all there.

"What?" Potter repeated, sounding rather glum. It wasn't a clue about Black.

"It's- it's got your name on it"

She almost sighed. Ron was not known for his observational skills and even he could see what was right in front of them.

"My name?" he moved closer to the prophecy.

This was the great Harry Potter? From what she had heard from others he was supposed to be relatively clever. So far she was not very impressed.

"What is it?" asked Ron, he sounded confused, "what's your name doing down here?"

She watched Ron scan the shelves, "i'm not here-none of the rest of us are here…" The Weasleys should be thankful they were not down here.

"Harry, I don't think you should touch it-" The girl was smart. She understood there was something off about this situation.

"Why not-It's something to do with me isn't it?" he said recklessly. She almost rolled her eyes, the Dark Lord did say he was impulsive.

"Dont, Harry." said another one of the children. She stilled briefly as she recognised the voice. Longbottom. Stupid boy, why did he have to bring Longbottom with him?

"It's got my name on," Potter said once more and finally did the thing they were waiting for. He reached out and quickly snatched the ball off the shelf.

It was time.

"Very good Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me." Lucius said coldly.

That was their signal. She melted out of the shadows, her wand clutched tightly in her hand and moving close to the girl with the frizzy hair. She was clever and Cassiopeia did not trust her.

"To me, Potter." Lucius repeated, a little more harshly.

Potter looked stunned, completely shocked by this turn of events.

"Where's Sirius?" he asked desperately. She couldn't help the scoff that escaped her. Even now he still held onto the hope that what he saw was true.

"The Dark Lord always knows" she heard her mother say triumphantly.

In this case, she had to agree. He had tricked Potter so well that he still did not realise what had happened.

"Always," Lucius agreed, "Now give me the prophecy Potter." Lucius repeated.

"I want to know where Sirius is," He asked once more.

" _I want to know where Sirius is!_ " Bellatrix mocked. Cassiopiea's face twitched. She hated it when her mother mocked. It was a dangerous.

She moved closer to the group, anticipating something reckless as they realised the truth.

"You've got him," Harry said, "He's here. I know he is." Cassiopeia shook her head slightly in awe of his thickheadedness. No wonder Snape found him abhorrent.

" _The little baby woke up fwightened and fort what it dweamed was twoo,_ " Her mother continued her mocking in a horrid baby voice. Her stomach twisted unpleasantly at the sound. She hated that more than her mocking. She was playing with her food.

"Don't do anything," she heard him mutter to his friends. Cassiopeia moved closer.

"You hear him? _You hear him_? Giving instruction to the other children as though he thinks of fighting us!"

"Oh you don't know Potter as I do, Bellatrix. He has a great weakness for heroics; the Dark Lord understands this about him. Now give me the prophecy Potter" Lucius tried to placate her mother's growing incredulity. He understood that Bellatrix was unhinged and could be unpredictable herself. He needed to contain her and handle Potter.

She also noticed the Longbottom boy pale. He was perhaps the first to realise the danger of their situation.

"I know Sirius is here, I know you've got him." Cassiopeia almost felt bad for him. He truly could not understand the extent that he had been played.

Her fellows laughed, including her mother. She remained silent.

"It's time you learned the difference between life and dreams Potter. Now give me the prophecy or we start using wands." Lucius finally gave him a hint to what was going on.

Cassiopeia scanned the children, trying to find a way out of this that did not end with them physically or psychologically damaged. Potter was not helping.

"Go on then," he said, raising his wand, causing his friends to do the same. She almost groaned. Idiot boy.

"Hand over the prophecy and no one need get hurt," Malfoy said smoothly, trying to contain the situation.

"Yeah right! I give you this -prophecy is it? And you'll just let us skip off home will you?" He was right. He understood that this was his only leverage.

Bellatrix however grew tired of reasoning "Accio proph-" She started to hiss.

Potter interrupted her "Protego"

Cassiopeia watched her mother nervously. He was provoking her and Lucius was rapidly losing control. "Oh he knows how to play. Little bitty baby Potter… very well then-" Cassiopeia tightened her grip on her wand, watching her mother closely. She could see the madness in her eyes, the anger, the thirst for blood.

"I TOLD YOU NO!" Lucius turned on her, "if you smash it-!"

Idiot. He tipped their hand and even Potter could understand and take advantage of the situation.

Her mother stepped forward, pulling off her hood and vanishing her mask, revealing herself to Potter and his friends. Cassiopeia could hear them shuffle nervously and she could hear the whimper from Longbottom.

"You need more persuasion," she said, panting with pent up energy, "Very well-Cassiopeia, take the smallest one." she barked, "Let him watch while we torture the little girl. I'll do it."

Cassiopeia hesitated, feeling nauseous at the thought of grabbing Ginny Wealey. She paused when she saw the children move in around her, protecting her from her grasp.

"You'll have to smash this if you want to attack any of us," Potter said, "I don't think your boss will be too pleased if you come back without it, will he?"

Her eyes flicked between her mother and Potter, transfixed by their standoff.

"So, what kind of prophecy are we talking about anyways?" Potter continued, trying to have a conversation as he inwardly panicked. She could relate, she too was inwardly panicking.

How stupid these children were, coming into the heart of the ministry, falling so handedly into their trap. She did not want to harm them.

"What kind of prophecy?" Bellatrix asked, her manic grin dissipating into something a little more serious. "You jest Harry Potter." She said lowly.

"Nope, not jesting-how come Voldemort wants it?"

She winced. Wrong thing to say.

"You dare speak his name?" Bellatrix was whispering now, rage filled her body. Cassiopeia's heart raced as she once again readjusted her grip.

 _Shut up Potter-just shut up_ she thought desperately.

"Yeah-Yeah ive got no problem saying Vol-"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH-" Bellatrix roared, "You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips, you dare besmirch it with your half-blood's tongue, you dare-" Cassiopeia felt cold as she watched her mother get worked up.

Someone was going to die. Or at least be very badly hurt.

"Did you know he's a half blood too?" Cassiopeia almost moaned aloud, and she heard his clever friend groan a little. She understood. He was poking a beast.

"Voldemort? Yeah his mother was a witch but his dad was a muggle-or has he been telling you lot he's a pureblood?"

Her mother lost it-"STUPE-"

"NO!" Malfoy intervened, redirecting her spell so it blew up a few other prophecies.

Truly she was impressed that her mother had restrained herself to non lethal. She knew many who had said far less who received a far worse fate.

Lucius was livid, but then it was partially his fault he let Potter goad Bellatrix. He should've known better. She was a loose cannon, unpredictable and illogical.

"DO NOT ATTACK! WE NEED THE PROPHECY!"

"He dared-he dares-" she was apoplectic, totally unable to speak-"he stands there-filthy half blood-"

"WAIT UNTIL WE'VE GOT THE PROPHECY!" Malfoy roared, turning fully on his sister in law.

Cassiopeia watched the children, her eyes narrowing as they shuffled awkwardly. They were up to something.

"You haven't told me what's so special about this prophecy im supposed to be handing over," Potter continued his ploy.

"Do not play games with us Potter," Malfoy spat, all his patience gone.

"I'm not playing games" He insisted.

"Dumbledore never told you that the reason you bear that scar was hidden away in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries?" Lucius sneered.

Cassiopeia could believe it. Dumbledore never liked revealing pertinent information to interested parties.

"I-what? What about my scar?"

"Can this be?" Malfoy sounded delighted and some of the other Death Eaters joined in their laughter. Cassiopeia fidgeted once more, her eyes narrowing on the kids. There had been far too much talking and they were wasting time and playing into Potter's hands. They needed to take the prophecy and go.

But Lucius always did love the sound of his own bloody voice.

"Dubledore never told you? Well this explains why you didn't come earlier Potter. The Dark Lord Wondered why you didn't come running when he showed you the place where it was hidden in your dreams. He thought natural curiosity would make you want to hear the exact wording…"

It was clear Potter had no idea what he was on about.

"Did you?" he asked, "so he wanted me to come and get it did he? Why?"

"Why?"

Cassiopeia almost growled in frustration. Monologuing. Lucius was bloody monologuing.

"Because the only people who are permitted to retrieve a prophecy from the Department of Mysteries Potter are those about whom it was made, as the Dark Lord discovered when he attempted to use others to steal it for him."

"And why did he want to steal a prophecy about me?"

Merlin Potter was either thick or buying time for a foolhardy plan.

"About both of you Potter, about both of you...Havent you ever wondered why the Dark Lord tried to kill you as a baby?" That got his attention.

"Someone made a prophecy about Voldemort and me?" he asked, clutching the glass tighter . "And he's made me come and get if for him? Why couldn't he come and get it himself?"

"Get it himself? Her mother gawked, a mad burst of laughter erupting from her. "The Dark Lord walk into the Ministry of Magic, when they are so sweetly ignoring his return? The Dark Lord, reveal himself to the Aurors, when at the moment they are wasting their time on my dear cousin?"

"So he's got you doing his dirty work for him has he? Like he tried to get Sturgis to steal it-and Bode."

The boy could put some things together it seemed.

"Very good Potter, very good...but the Dark Lord knows you are not unintell-"

The moment Cassiopeia was waiting for finally happened, she had a shield up and ready when Potter shouted NOW to his friends, already redirecting the falling prophecies as his friends smashed the shelves.

Malfoy spoke for too long, his arrogance was going to cost them all.

Cassiopeia gave chase, carefully aiming her spells to be close to her target, but just slightly off. It wasn't long until the children disappeared entirely with their head start.

Lucius was livid, "Leave Nott, leave him I say. The Dark Lord will not care for Nott's injuries as much as losing that prophecy!" he motioned to the collapsed form tf the Death Eater in front of them.

"Judson, come back here, we need to organize! We'll split into pairs and search, and don't forget, be gentle with Potter until we've got the prophecy, you can kill the others if necessary. Bellatrix, Rodolphus you take the left, Crabbe, Rabastan, go right. Jugson, Dolohov, the door straight ahead, Macnair and Avery, through there. Rookwood, Lestrange-over there. Mulciber come with me."

"No." Bellatrix said sharply. "Cassie comes with me." The two glared at each other briefly before Lucius finally relented. The longer they spent arguing about the groups, the more time Potter had to get away.

"Rodolphus, go with Rookwood. Lestrange, with your mother." Lucius amended reluctantly.

Cassiopeia understood why he acquiesced to her mother's demands-they could not afford to waste time. But he weakened his position. He was put in charge of the operation, not Bellatrix. He should have enforced his authority, relenting now gave more power to her mother.

Cassiopeia ran with her mother, room through room, looking for any sound of the kids. She heard shouts and grunts coming from other directions, some of the Death Eaters were successful in finding their prey, and Cassiopeia hoped they refrained from killing any of them outright.

Bellatrix threw herself against a door where they had heard some of the voices and she gave a triumphant screech as she came face to face with the two Weasley children, Longbottom, and Potter.

"There they are!" she hissed, waving her wand wildly in her attempts to get them. Cassiopeia was precise in her movements, her eyes narrowed as she took in the scene before her. Ron was pale, dazed and giggling madly. He seemed confounded, clearly unable to think. Ginny was injured, something with her foot and was not able to move, and now that she looked like could see a collapsed body on the ground. The clever girl. She swallowed thickly, pushing any dark thoughts from her mind. She couldn't help her now. Not directly.

Her glimpse was cut short as Potter and the children rushed through another door, slamming it shut in Bellatrix's face, causing her to curse loudly as she collided with it. It was stuck.

"There are other ways in," Cassiopeia said quietly, and her mother nodded, already moving towards the other entrances. The Dark Lord had made them familiar with the floor plan, they knew the layout of the department.

"WE'VE GOT THEM, THEY'RE HERE!" Bellatrix shouted, screaming for the others.

They ran from door to door, trying each one and finding most of them sealed from the other end. It seemed Potter and his friends were smarter than she gave him credit for. But they were slow, Bellatrix hurled herself against another door, slamming it open and into the face of a blonde girl, knocking her back off some steps where she flew through the air and landed heavily on a pile of desks.

Cassiopeia eyed her carefully as she entered the room after her mother. She was still.

"Get Potter!" Bellatrix hissed, running towards the boy.

"Hey!" Ron said, swaying uncertainly, like a drunkard, "Hey Harry, there are brains in here, ha ha ha, isn't that weird Harry?" He giggled.

Cassiopeia almost paused as she gave the boy a shocked look. Something was seriously wrong with him.

"Ron, get out of the way, get down-" Harry tried to restrain his friend, tried to pull him out of the path of their spells.

"Honest, Harry, they're brains-look-accio brain" He shouted.

Cassiopeia watched in horror as what was indeed an object that looked just like a human brain flew from a tank of murky green water and stopped suspended in mid air. She felt the whole room still, as they watched the scene unravel. Cassiopeia recognised tendrils of what must be all that remained of a nervous system flail wildly as the brain tried to process its new environment.

Was it sentient she wondered? Did it know what just happened? How was it moving without blood bringing it oxygen?

"Ha ha ha, Harry, look at it-" Ron said, his eyes wide with childlike amazement-"Harry, come and touch it, bet it's weird-" He reached out to touch the suspended brain, ignoring his friends shout to the contrary.

The tentacles reached out and wrapped themselves around his arm, crawling quickly up until it wrapped around his chest, pulling itself close against Ron. She could see the panic in his eyes as the brain's grip tightened, looking very much like an octopus pulling a prey into its beak.

"Harry, looks what's happen-no-no, I don't like it-no, stop-stop-" Ron cried, his face pale.

Cassiopeia was momentary paralysed as she watched the youngest Weasley boy fight off the abomination. He was going to die.

"Harry, it'll suffocate him!" she heard Ginny scream.

She was right, it was going to suffocate him.

"Cassiopeia" Bellatrix hissed, hitting her with a stinging hex to get her attention.

Right, the children. They had a job to do. She had a job to do.

Her spells hit her every target, close enough so the children felt threatened, and yet far enough away to not cause any serious danger. She stalked deliberately, watching the children closely and keeping half an eye on her mother.

She cast a few spells at the brain, missing Ron by centimetres. She wouldn't let him die. She did however stun him, at the very least to get him out of the fight.

Soon it was only two, Potter and Longbottom, against five Death Eaters including her. They lost, or would very soon she through sadly.

It was just as she was thinking this did Potter make his move. He ran, sprinting holding the prophecy up high above his head, drawing the fire away from the injured children, knowing they would not risk hitting him directly.

Cassiopeia was glad to leave the children and pursue Potter, happy to see that the Death Eaters forgot about the others as they chased the prophecy the Dark Lord wanted. She muttered a few protection spells quickly at the children before giving chase.

Potter lost his footing, falling down a series of steep stone steps before landing heavily in what seemed to be a pit in the middle of the room. He was done for.

She joined the others in surrounding him, the five who had been in the last room with them, and reinforcements. They could all see the prophecy he held in his hand, somehow intact after his ridiculous fall.

Potter stood up quickly, his face pale and his eyes darting around, taking in their numbers. He back away until he nearly tripped on a dais in the middle of the deep pit. On the dais was a curious stone archway that gave her the chills if she looked at it too long. The others were laughing at the boy, amused by his fight and his inevitable loss. She was silent.

"Potter, your race is run," Drawled Lucius, amusement dancing across his face as he pulled off his mask.

Foolish, she thought. Never show your face to the enemy.

"Now hand me the prophecy like a good boy…" He continued, stretching out his hand, smirking cruelly.

"Let-let the others go, and I'll give it to you!" She should see the desperation on his face. Such a Gryffindor, sacrificing himself to save his friends. If his friends were smart, they'd be on their way out now. Cassiopeia gave them enough cover to get them out.

"You are not in a position to bargain, Potter" Lucius continued looking quite pleased with himself. "You see, there are ten of us, and only one of you..or hasnt Dumbledore ever taught you how to count?"

She sneered behind her mask. It was foolish to waste time once more. Potter was unpredictable, they could not allow him time to think.

"He's dot alone!" shouted a voice from behind them, "He's still god be!"

Her sneer deepened as she heard the voice of Longbottom, who was bleeding heavily from his nose clumsily scramble down the stairs towards Potter in the pit.

"Neville-no-go back to Ron!" Potter shouted at his friend.

Yes, she thought, help your friends you bloody idiot.

"Stubefy!" he tried shouting. She almost felt bad for him. His only saving grace at this moment was that her mother did not know who he was.

It was not long until a Death Eater-her father-grabbed him from behind, his arms pinning the boys arms to his side, wrapped around his middle.

"It's Longbottom, isn't it?" Sneered Lucius, looking at the boy in disgust. "Well, your grandmother is used to losing family members to our cause… your death will not come as a great shock…" He said casually.

She sighed quietly. Her mother did not know who he was. She did now. And she looked transformed, a small, manic grin lit up her face as her eyes danced in pleasure.

"Longbottom," She breathed, almost reverently. "Why, I have had the pleasure of meeting your parents boy," She informed him, her body positively thrumming with energy.

"I DOE YOU HAB!" Neville shouted. She could see the tears in his eyes as he struggled against Rodolphus.

Her father for his part grunted as Longbottom fought, growling lowly, "Someone stun him" as he struggled to contain the desperate boy.

"No, no, no," Bellatrix looked alive, electric, "What do you think Cassie? Let's see how long Longbottom lasts before he cracks like his parents-" She had a wicked grin, her face flushed as she glanced at her daughter. "We can take turns on him, you and I-practice your skills a bit. That is, unless Potter wants to give us the prophecy?" She turned to Harry who looked desperate.

Cassiopeia felt a sick resignation filled her gut as she met her mother's eyes. She remembered the day Longbottom came to Hogwarts. She remembered when he was sorted. She remembered running into him in the hallway. She had felt so guilty, so wretched and embarrassed. Merlin she had even seen his parents in St Mungos-and now-now she was going to put him there, with his parents.

"DON'D GIB ID DO DEM HARRY" Neville roared as he fought desperately against her father who was now practically holding the whole boys weight, drawing his knees up to his chest.

He was brave. She had heard his parents were too.

"Crucio!" Her mother hissed, the jet of light hitting Neville straight on.

Cassiopeia clenched her jaw as she heard the boy scream, her father finally grew tired of holding the boy and dropped him to the floor where he writhed in pain. She ended the spell after a few short seconds and he remained curled up on the ground, twitching and crying.

"That was just a taster!" Bellatrix said, turning back to Potter. "Either give us the prophecy, or watch your little friend die the hard way!" she threatened, pointing her wand steadily at the collapsed boy, her head tilted to the side and her eyes wide and gleaming with pleasure.

Bellatrix wanted Potter to disobey, Cassiopeia could tell. It had been such a long time since she had cast an unforgivable on anyone other than her, she could see the pleasure she got from such things.

He was going to do it-he had slowly thrust his hand out-offering the prophecy when all hell broke loose.

Cassiopeia heard the door first, ducking instinctively at the unexpected sound, her shield charm up without a second thought. She had lived in constant fear of random attacks from her father and that paranoia was the only thing that saved her from a red jet of light from hitting her directly.

It took her moments to realise what had happened, and the knot in her stomach unclenched slightly. The Order of the Phoenix had finally arrived. The children were saved.

And there was battle going on.

Her mother appeared at her side, grabbing her arm and ducking behind a piece of jutting black stone that lined the pit.

"Stay with me." She hissed, "Just like we practiced," and she was off, forcing Cassiopeia to follow her.

In their trainings they had not only fought each other, but learned to fight with each other, complementing each others style and working on the best ways to defend each other. They literally had each other's back as they fought back to back, shooting spells in a circle.

She hated to admit it, but her and her mother were truly a force to be reckoned with. They were in tune with each other, their spell casting wildly different and yet complementary.

Bellatrix was wild and gleeful, taunting and full of arrogance and energy. Cassiopeia was reserved, measured, and precise. She did not waste spells and she did not waste time with either unnecessary words or movements.

The only thing that made Cassiopeia falter was the opponent that stepped in for Doge, who fell with a well placed stunner to his shoulder.

Dora.

Dora smirked as she took her position, looking confident and fierce. Bellatrix was busy with two other Order members and paid very little attention to what she was doing.

Dora did not realise it was her, not at first. But when she raised her wand she recognised it and took a quick step back in shock.

"It's on" Cassiopeia muttered, feeling for the first time a flash of excitement. Her and Dora always sniped about who would win in a duel-the last time they crossed wands she had been in her fifth year when Dora stepped in to protect Charlie.

"Like Donkey Kong." Dora returned.

Cassiopeia almost lost the duel immediately as she snorted at the awful joke. They had heard that phrase in a hip hop song not too long ago and it had become a saying that had really grown on Ted, who used it relentlessly much to the girls mortification.

Her grin faded as she struggled to counter and divert Dora's opening salvo. She licked her lips and doubled down. She would not lose this match.

Dora was good, she was really good. Far better than Cassiopeia had imagined she would be, and if she had not trained with the Dark Lord himself relentlessly, Dora would have really given her a run for her money. She was smart, talented and disciplined. The Aurors had taught her well.

It was close, probably the closest duel she had ever had, but in the end Cassiopeia was a little faster, a little stronger, and most importantly-very well balanced.

Dora was a clumsy girl, and as good of a witch she was, it was not very hard to knock her off balance. And an opponent who is off balance a little bit can be knocked off balance a lot. And once that happens a fundamental casting breakdown happens. For Dora it was subtle, most normal witches and wizards would fall to her wand.

But Cassiopeia was no longer a normal witch. She was the Dark Lords left hand, his weapon in the upcoming war. She was created to fight, to wreak havoc, and to commit violence. Dora was good, but she was not good enough to block the stunning hex that squeaked in past her shield charm. Cassiopeia had read her imbalance and had exploited it, but casting her spell at an angle.

With Dora safely knocked out she finally tuned back into the rest of the Battle.

It was difficult to tell who was winning, Bellatrix was fighting with her cousin Sirius Black, and all of the Death Eaters were locked into duels with varying success. Her train of thought was interrupted as Kingsley Shacklebolt engaged her, continuing her fight.

She got lost in it, feeling the familiar surge of energy and glee that came from a good duel. She let loose, careful to remain non lethal, to not seriously injure, but that did not mean she was able to go easy. She lived to fight, and soon her head was swimming with adrenaline and a pleasant fuzzy emptiness that generally accompanied hard work outs, pain, and fights.

But then the mood shifted as several things happened at once.

Dumbledore arrived, his presence like a vacuum, sucking away all of her pleasure and eagerness and replacing it with both hope and fear. He was terrifying, nearly as terrifying as the Dark Lord. It was time to end things and get out. And end them she did, pushing herself a little harder, a little faster, to best Kingsley. He fell backwards with a leg locker jinx, a simple spell that was surprisingly efficient and turned to grab her mother and run.

"Come on, you can do better than that!" she heard Sirius taunt Bellatrix.

He looked shocked as a jet of light hit him squarely in the chest. It was as if time slowed as she saw the wicked grin grow across her mother's face, her jubilant laughter and shouts of triumph as she watched Sirius take a small step backwards, before falling through an arch that stood in the middle of the room.

Bellatrix grabbed Cassiopeia's arm and roughly pulled her along, hissing at her to stay close and follow. "Mum-Dumbledore" Cassiopeia said, as if it wasn't obvious that the battle was lost. They needed to go, now.

Three Order members, Emmeline Vance, Hestia Jones, and Alastor Moody blocked their path. Bellatrix took Alastor and Cassiopeia made short work of the other two. They had just fallen as Bellatrix set off a monstrous explosion, grabbing Cassiopeia once more by the arm and pulling her away, to the exit, running for what she was worth.

Cassiopeia almost made it unscathed, and yet somehow through the fray, one of Moody's spells connected solidly with her side. It was only her relative tolerance for pain that kept Cassiopeia running, mixed with her fear of Azkaban and the Dark Lord's wrath which gave her renewed energy. She panted as a fresh, stinging pain spread across the side of her body, stealing her breath, and she cursed as she felt her robe grow moist under her hands.

It was just a flesh wound. It's what she kept telling herself. She had handled the worst that Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange could throw at her. Alastor Moody could not hurt her, not truly.

Cassiopeia focussed on her mother, on staying close and Bellatrix would reach back and tug her along, sometimes pushing her forward. Her vision tunnelled as she focussed on the way out, on getting to the apparition point, on rejoining the Dark Lord-regrouping.

The more she ran the more the pain spread and the harder she found it to breath. Her vision blurred and the wet patch in her robes grew.

She leaned heavily against the wall of the elevator as they made their way back up to the entrance. She was drained, unable to speak even if she wanted to. She was finding it hard to think actually.

She hadn't even realised they were being followed until her mother suddenly stopped running, grinning madly.

"Come out, come out, little Harry" she taunted.

Cassiopeia let out a little groan, both her hands now clutching the wound on her side. The pain was spreading up her ribs and down across her waist.

"What did you come after me for then? I thought you were here to avenge my dear cousin!" she shouted looking around the room.

Cassiopeia bit her tongue and forced herself to focus. She was fine. The spell had come from Moody-it wouldn't be lethal. She would be fine. There were more important things to worry about, like Potter.

"I am!" Potter shouted, his voice echoing across the atrium. She narrowed her eyes, stilling as she looked around.

"Aaaaah-did you love him, little baby Potter?" her mother asked sweetly, still searching the room for the boy.

"Crucio!" Cassiopeia stared in shock as the jet of light hit Bellatrix straight on, knocking her off her feet with a yelp.

She quickly rushed over, her own injury forgotten to tend to her mother. It was in vain however as she was already sitting up, laughing hoarsely, pushing her daughters helping hands away.

"Never used an Unforgivable Curse before have you boy?" She asked lowly, dangerously. "You need to mean them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain-to enjoy it-righteous anger wont hurt me for long- ill show you how it is done, shall I? I'll give you a lesson-" Her voice was rising as she spoke, already up on her feet.

Cassiopeia stumbled back from her mother, letting her continue her hunt, her attention captured by the red stains on her hands. She was bleeding. Perhaps a little more than she felt entirely comfortable with.

"Potter, you cannot win against me!" her mother cried, showing out curses at every glimpse of the boy. "I was and am the Dark Lords most loyal servant, I learned the Dart Arts from him, and I know spells of such power that you, pathetic little boy, can never hope to compete-"

"Protego" Cassiopeia muttered, intercepting the jet of red light that was rushing towards her.

"No Potter, you could never win again me alone. Silly boy, running from Dumbledore's protection to find yourself alone with the Dark Lords Left Hand and and his most loyal." She hissed. "Cassie, come" she said lowly, throwing her daughter a dark look

Cassiopeia joined her mother in the search, half heartedly looking to get a clear shot on Potter as the pair split up. The pain was travelling further, it almost felt like something was in her blood.

"Give us the prophecy Potter, roll it out and we may spare you!" Cassiopeia cried out, she sounded tired, winded.

"Well, you're going to have to kill me, because it's gone-" Harry roared.

Cassiopeia blood cooled, her pain momentarily forgotten as she made direct eye contact with her mother who looked terrified.

"What? What do you mean?" she cried in disbelief.

"The prophecy smashed when I was trying to get Neville up the steps! What do you think Voldemort'll say about that, then?"

"LIAR! YOU'VE GOT IT, POTTER, AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME-accio prophecy-accio prophecy" Her mother was petrified and angry.

Cassiopeia was frozen in fear. They had failed him. They had failed him and had to pay.

She dropped to her knees in defeat as she tuned out Potter's laughing as he informed them of the truth once more. She ignored her mother's cries for mercy, for forgiveness. She pressed her face to the polished floor, terrified and exhausted.

"Don't waste your breath!" Potter yelled, "He can't hear you from here!"

"Can I, Potter?" She heard his voice.

She felt the itching sensation of both relief and anxiety fill her chest. He was here. Her body reacted to him as it always did-she was tired, injured, and he was here.

He was also angry. Angrier than she had ever seen him.

Bellatrix threw herself at his feet, pleading and blubbering. It was pathetic.

"Be quiet, Bella. I shall deal with you two in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your snivelling appologies" he sneered dangerously.

She shivered-she could feel his menace from here. He was as frightening as Dumbledore had been.

Dumbledore. He was here too. Downstairs. Maybe-no. That was a dangerous thought.

Cassiopeia opened her mind to the Dark Lord, reaching out and trying to make eye contact with him, trying to share the information. But he only had eyes for Potter.

She felt Bellatrix crawl over to her. She felt the woman wrap her arms around her. She felt her shaking, she could smell the fear oozing off of her, mixing with the sweat and exertion of the evening. Cassiopeia threw herself further into her mother's embrace, seeking comfort and solace from what was going to happen next.

"Mummy," she panted, Bellatrix still looked to her master. "Muuuuum.." she gave a low whine which was unusual enough for her to glance down quickly.

Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the state of her daughter, blood seeping into her robes and she cast a few spells to slow the bleeding. If there was one thing Bellatrix knew how to do it was to stabilize a person after a traumatic event like a battle.

"I have nothing more to say to you, Potter." The Dark Lord said quietly, "You have irked me to often, for too long, Avada Kedavra." He hissed.

For a second, Cassiopeia thought it was over. That Potter was gone.

It wasn't until a golden statue sprung to life and leapt in front of Potter did she begin to have hope of a different outcome.

"What-?" She saw the Dark Lord look around quickly in confusion, his eyes briefly flicking to hers in suspicion.

He could feel her far, her hope, and most importantly-he understood the new threat.

"Dumbledore!" He shouted looked around.

Dumbledore was there. Potter was saved.

He waved his wand almost lazily towards the fountain in the middle of the atrium where several gleaming gold statues remained. One of them came directly towards her and her mother, who clutched her daughter to her chest with one arm and useless cast spells against the oncoming statue. It wasn't long that they found themselves imprisoned two statues, effectively creating a cage around them.

The battle was magnificent and terrifying. She was glad for the statues imprisoning her as it acted as a barrier from any after effects of the magic cast by possibly the two most powerful wizards to live.

It also gave Cassiopeia a moment to fully appreciate her injury. Whatever Moody had cast, it had been far nastier than she initially thought. She could feel the magic, whatever the curse was, spread with her blood. The pain spread further away from the wound, and a worrying numbness took the place closer to the wound. She was cold and clammy, but at least she was no longer bleeding. Bellatrix had taken care of that.

She was barely conscious when she felt the rough jerk on her robes as long pale fingers grabbed her robe. She wasn't prepared for the side along apparition, and very nearly passed out as they got to their destination. She heard her mother's cries, her apologies as she left her daughter injured on the ground to beg for forgiveness.

She felt someone pick her up and she groaned. It was too much, her skin was sensitive, far too sensitive. And now it was hot, itchy, prickly almost.

"Quiet Little Lestrange" she heard the low hiss of the Dark Lord as he gently put her on a bed. Her mother was still snivelling in the background, crying out apologies.

He turned quickly to curse her. Cassiopeia relished in her mothers pain. She relished it, she enjoyed seeing her mother brought low, even if it implied she also was the subject of his wrath. She relaxed under his care. The Dark Lord meant peace, he gave her respite from her thoughts, from her anger, from everything. He filled her mind, going through the events of the evening, and she could feel his rage as he paused at different parts.

Relaxed as she was, she was still terrified. He knew it, and he enjoyed her terror. He traced her mask, slowly pulling it off her face and he leaned down low over her bed, his cheek brushing against hers as he hissed lowly in her ear, "Never fear, Little Lestrange. You'll get your punishment as soon as you are ready to." his hands traced her face, moving down to lightly wrap against her throat, where he tightened his fist slightly-Just enough for it to become difficult to breathe normally, but not enough for her to actually start panicking.

"Of course My lord. Thank you My Lord." She muttered, her heart fluttering in fear and something else.

He left her soon after ensuring she was bandaged and stable, "Rest Lestrange. For now, rest."

And she did, the exhaustion and emotion of the night catching up with her. He hadnt even left the room before she fell into a deep, exhausted slumber.

 _A/N It's on like Donkey Kong is an Ice Cube song from 1992. Ted loves Donkey Kong, Cassiopeia loves music, and I imagine Dora and Cass using the phrase once in front of Ted and having him endlessly repeat it, because he loves it so much. I think ted would be a little less impressed with the song on a whole though. Sorry for the delays-a slightly longer chapter to make up for it._

 _As always thoughts and reviews are always appreciated! Thanks!_


	15. Chapter 15: The Calm

"Lucius? Lucius?! Where is he? Where is my husband?!"

Cassiopeia woke up to the demanding cries of Narcissa from down the hall.

"Quiet Cissy," she heard her mother hiss angrily.

"What happened?! Where is he?" She sounded angry. And afraid.

"Your husband, incompetent fool that he is, will likely be on his way to Azkaban." The Dark Lord said dangerously.

It was quiet for a moment. "Az—Azkaban?" She choked out.

Cassiopeia groaned, her head felt heavy and her body ached as she rolled out of bed.

"He should feel lucky to be on his way there rather than facing my wrath immediately for his failures. Though perhaps if you were to pay the price- he will think carefully about disappointing me again."

She stumbled to the door, intent on getting to her aunt, getting her out of the way. She could feel the Dark Lords menace even from the next room.

"P-p-Please my Lord. Forgive my sister-she forgets her place." Bellatrix pleaded with the Dark Lord, her voice wavering in fear.

Cassiopeia slid through the door, bracing herself against the wall as a wave of exhaustion hit her.

Bellatrix was in front of her sister, trying to push her out of the Dark Lord's sight. She was pale and trembling, her eyes shining with fear and anger.

The Dark Lord's eyes flicked the Cassiopeia briefly and she felt the cursory glance he took at her mind before looking away.

Bellatrix and Narcissa both looked at her, her mother with hope and Narcissa with relief.

He hummed, stalking slowly through the room, his eyes pinned dangerously on the former Black sisters. "Yes, I think punishing you would teach Lucius a valuable lesson." He mused

Narcissa was bone white and looked a little faint.

"Punish me, My Lord. Narcissa is nothing- she is an ornament and not much more, certainly not a Death Eater. She is well below your notice and time. I am your left hand, I embody your will and I failed you the most. Punish me."

Her voice was cold and confident, contrary to her racing heart as she tossed her wand to the floor between them before kneeling down.

Narcissa couldn't handle his punishment. She didn't deserve it and being in his sights was too dangerous. She had to distract him. She had to protect her by belittling her.

She remained kneeling as she heard him walk softly over to her, and she closed her eyes as she heard his huff in amusement.

"So brave Little Lestrange and so selfless." He said in his high pitched voice.

She felt his hand, gentle as he rested it on the top of her head, a mockery of fondness.

"Rise," he hissed, his voice low and cold.

She did immediately. There was a stone in her stomach and she felt numb. She did not look at Narcissa.

The Dark lord stayed behind her, his hands ghosting around her form, tracing her sides.

"Bella." He said deeply, she could hear the smirk in his voice.

Her mother didn't hesitate, didn't even pause as she lurched forward, her wand drawn and her face fierce. "Crucio,"

The force of the curse knocked her backwards into the Dark Lord, who reached out to steady her. To pin her in place against him as she thrashed around wildly caught in the throes of her mother's curse.

Bellatrix was the Dark Lord's favourite for a reason. Her ability to cause pain was unparalleled, and she did not shy away from the punishment that was ordered on her daughter. She made Cassiopeia both blind and deaf, unable to see any attacks incoming and therefore causing them to hurt even more. She cast bludgeoning charms interspersed with the cruciatus. She inserted carefully planned moments of respite to preserve her mind and to prevent her from going into shock.

She felt pain, unpredictable and relentless. She also felt his arms, as he held her tightly against him during her punishment, and as he let go of her, letting her fall to the ground atop his feet and writhe.

It could have been hours or it could have been mere moments, Cassiopeia was no longer certain, but eventually the pain stopped and she was allowed to fall into the blessed darkness that was beckoning.

The Dark Lord did not heal her this time. She was forced out of the Malfoy Manor back to her own flat and was forbidden from healing herself with any magical means. She would wear her wounds as a reminder for what happens when one dissapoints the Dark Lord. She was not allowed to talk to Narcissa, or even see her before she was ejected. She said it herself, Narcissa was beneath all of their notice.

Her only order when she left was to find a way to earn the Dark Lord's forgiveness and mercy. He wanted information-good information, useful information. And she was not to return to him without that information. And if he had to summon her and she did not have anything of value for him-he made it clear that not only she would suffer, but her whole family.

That night she isolated herself in her flat, getting lost in cheap whisky and even cheaper take away. She was in pain, her whole body covered in mottled bruises of varying shades of yellows and greens, purples and blacks. She felt her anger, usually so well contained, deep in her chest, pulsing and raging in her body. She yelled, she screamed, and she destroyed nearly everything she owned in anger, frustration, and desperation. And she drank-heavily, falling into a stupor, the alcohol doing nothing to numb her wounds.

The morning she nursed her hangover and read the news. She was forbidden from contacting Narcissa and therefore couldn't be there for her when the Minister held his press conference, announcing the return of the Dark Lord and the imprisonment of her husband and the other caught Death Eaters.

It was over. They were no longer hiding. The news was out, You-Know-Who was back and they would need to remind the world what that meant.

The day after the news conference she was roused by a loud and insistent banging at her front door. Grumbling and more than a little confused she stumbled down to her front door, jerking it open harshly, intending to yell at whoever dared interrupted her self imposed isolation.

Her words died in her throat as Nymphadora pushed her in quickly, kicking the door shut behind her. "Bloody hell woman, you look like shite." She said, examining her closely, casting a quick eye around her apartment. "What happened here? Nevermind we haven't time." She grabbed her left forearm, waving her wand quickly over her Dark Mark, tightening her fist against the struggling girl.

Cassiopeia jerked her arm back as she felt a cooling feeling spread over her whole forearm, and she watched in amazement as her Mark faded into nothing. It was a nifty spell.

"What the-how do you know where I live?"

"Nevermind that now Cass, they're on their way-That other evening-we were together alright? We we-" She was interrupted by a loud pounding at her front door.

Tonks cursed, as she quickly waved her wand, repairing the worst of the damage to her flat.

"Better get that if you want to continue having a front door." Dora warned darkly, taking a seat on her couch, trying to make herself look casual.

The banging became a touch more violent so she decided to trust her sister and let whoever was outside in.

She was not expecting the small contingent of ministry officials standing outside, and she numbly moved aside as their leader-Porteus Gambol, pushed their way inside.

"What the hell?" she said, her eyes wide as the group filed in. She raised her eyebrows as Amelia Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement brought up the rear of the group. Amelia at least looked a little embarrassed for their rash entry.

"Cassiopeia-Lestrange is it now? How interesting you've changed your name back. We are here on behalf of a new Ministry task force that is looking into identifying any suspected Death Eater activity" Porteus sneered as he looked down his nose at her.

The other members in the groups were looking around her house, opening drawers and scanning her bookshelves, tossing her items aside as they searched her flat messily.

She was taken aback at the sheer brazenness. "And do you have a warrant to be going through all of my belongings? Or to barge into my house?" She asked, taking slow breaths as she tried to control her temper. Dora appeared once more at her side, grabbing her wrist and stepping in front of her-perhaps sensing her growing irritation.

"Why yes, of course we do." Porteus dismissed, tossing a piece of paper at the girls carelessly. Dora caught it first, her eyes scanning through it.

"This is ridiculous. Cassiopeia has an alibi for the evening in question-I provided it. Is the word of an Auror-who is very aware of the consequences of perjury, not enough for this panel?" Dora was incensed, her hair was growing shorter and turning a fiery red colour to match her temper.

"You must forgive this panels scepticism Miss Tonks, however you would have motive to lie on behalf of your-would you still say sister? And judging from the state of her, I do believe it calls into question the authenticity of your claim, which as you said yourself, carries some severe consequences" Porteus scoffed.

Cassiopeia snatched the document out of her sister's hand and scanned through it. They were investigating her on suspicion of being a Death Eater and for being a part of the break in at the Ministry a few days ago.

"This is mental-you arrested the lot that broke in, I thought." Cassiopeia mumbled.

"Two people got away-whisked away by You-Know-Who himself. Bellatrix Lestrange and a masked accomplice." Amelia Bones said softly, eyeing Cassiopeia carefully.

"Reports did suggest the accomplice was injured, care to tell us the origin of those injuries Miss Lestrange?" Amelia asked.

"Boxing." She said gruffly, crumpling up the paper and scowling at the Aurors searching her home. "I decided to partake in some boxing without the appropriate protection. An idiotic move definitely."

"A suspiciously large amount of literature on curses here marm." called one of the Aurors who was examining her bookshelf.

Amelia answered for her. "Cassiopeia is an accomplished curse breaker and as such would have a large collection of curses and counter curses. Additionally she is a respected member of the community with an alibi from an equally respected member of the ministry who has already testified on behalf of her whereabouts on the evening in question. If I didn't know better Gambol I would have thought this had more to do about your apparent dislike for the girl then any real sense of justice." Her tone was crisp and matter of fact as she rounded on the leader of this inquisition.

"And yet we would be remiss to not look into all close familial members. Miss Lestrange's uncle, who she is known to associate with, has been caught red handed in the Ministry. And her recent name change along with her past experiences with the organisation gives us enough reasonable cause to investigate her." He retorted.

Cassiopeia glared as the two spoke as if she wasn't in the room. "Look, no Dark Mark on my arm," She thrust her arm out towards them quickly before hiding it once more. She'd rather they not cast anything to check the veracity of her statement, "As for my associations, if we are vilifying every person who has spoken to Lucius Malfoy, then you might as well arrest half the bloody Ministry."

Porteus glared at her, losing his patience, "Boxing you say, how preposterous. I find it highly unlikely that a witch would take part in anything so barbaric."

"Err-actually myself and Cass have been boxing for well over a year. You can ask at our gym if you like, but I can attest to both her over-confidence in the ring, and the regularity that she attends. "

"All clear sir, aside from the unusual number of books about curses, there is nothing illegal or untoward in the flat." one of Porteus's grunts said.

The man looked murderous as his gaze swept over her flat, "Are you sure you checked everything? Did you sweep for any hidden chambers or rooms?" he asked.

She raised her eyebrows. "Seriously? Hidden chambers? Who do you think I am? After you get the bloody hell out of my flat I am taking this warrant directly to my solicitor to look into the matter a little more deeply. I personally feel harassed and profiled by the Ministry. I hope you have an impeccable paper trail Gambol, because my solicitor is the best." She warned darkly, already half planning her meeting with Lima in the very near future.

"I have half a mind to look into this further Porteus, are we treating all of our suspects to the same surprise searches? And how are we dealing with those who do not have alibi's? If we are to partner with my Department, I want a little more oversight and information. Ten minutes was not adequate today and never will be. You've had your fun, now let's leave Miss Lestrange in peace to continue her afternoon." Amelia said primly, adjusting her robes and giving Porteus Gambol a hard stare.

The man grumbled but reluctantly acquiesced. With a final glare he filed out with his grunts. Amelia was the last to go, pausing and giving Cassiopeia a hard stare and a frown. She looked between the two girls suspiciously, waved her wand to clear up the mess the inquisition had made and left.

The girls were left standing together in silence in the middle of her house, each finding the floor or the wall suddenly very interesting.

"So this is where you live huh? Swanky." Dora commented, looking at the hand painted ceilings and the ornate woodwork along the walls.

"A Lestrange townhouse I think. Maybe a Black property-im not sure. Lima would know, she managed all of them." Cassiopeia said hollowly, slowly making her way back to her couch, where she sat heavily and poured herself more whisky.

"Are you alright?" Dora asked quietly, grimacing at the sight of her. "Boxing is a little bit of a stretch for those bruises."

"Cheers" She took a swig of her whisky, glaring at the ostentatious floor inlay as she reclined with a soft grunt of pain. She was still very tender.

"To say He wasn't pleased is a bit of an understatement." She murmured into her cup, downing most of the contents with a wince. She needed a pain killer stat.

Dora hovered awkwardly, uncertain what to do now that the initial danger had passed. "I'm not the best at healing, but I can give it a go-or we can go to your mate Theo, he'll set you right."

Cassiopeia shook her head in irritation, "I have been forbidden from healing myself. This is my punishment and I have to suffer through it. Besides, it's not so bad, nothing I can't handle at least," She tried to be optimistic for her sister. It had been years admittedly since she had lasting injuries such as these, but she could handle it far better than Narcissa could.

It was better that she was the one suffering and no one else.

Dora was quiet once more-"well-i've uh- I have got to go to work. With You-Know-Who officially back, it's been chaos. I dropped everything to come her when I heard about them."

Cassiopeia nodded tiredly. She would have to be careful now. "Appreciate it." she mumbled.

"Er-well, see you." She said awkwardly before turning to eave.

"So we are really not gonna talk about it?" Cassiopeia called to her retreating sister. She never knew Dora to shy away from a topic, but this was apaprently too much for her.

She paused near her door, stiffening. "What?"

"Us-meeting each other on the battlefield, on opposite sides. It's bound to happen again. Mum's got it out for you by the way, course she hates Sirius personally whereas for you, it's just a concept that she hates." Cassiopeia said darkly, pouring herself more drink.

"We knew this was going to happen, and we handled it well. You got lucky." She said stiffly, clearly uncomfortable.

"I didn't get lucky Dora-you almost had me with that ridiculous quote. But you can't let yourself slip like that, with your balance. I may be non lethal to you, but the other Death Eaters will not-my mother will not be. I can't always redirect her. Be careful." She warned.

Dora scowled, her hair changing a deep purple in irritation. "Next time I promise it will be you who is stunned, not me. I wasn't kidding by the way about work, im needed. See you at the next meeting." She bit out, turning and storming out the front door, apparating as soon as she could.

Cassiopeia sighed. She had clearly hit a nerve, but she'd rather have Dora angry at her than dead.

The next meeting. It was tomorrow and she was dreading it, dreading facing all of those faces, faces that would surely try and blame her for the death of their compatriot.

That could wait. For now she was in pain and she needed to drink.

Xxx

She felt sick, mostly from the drinking, and a little from her situation as she found herself in while she stood on the doorstep of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. She stared at the door for what seemed like hours, trying to work up the courage to enter the premises, to face the people after a battle where they lost one of their own.

Eventually she entered, holding her breath and dreading her reception.

The house was quiet, and she breathed a little sigh of relief. Perhaps she got the time wrong, perhaps she could leave without seeing anyone, retreat back to the safety of her home. Cautiously she crept towards the kitchen, poking her head in quickly to ensure there was no one there.

The kitchen was empty but she did hear voices further down the hall, two people who were arguing in hushed tones.

"You don't understand, you are too young and naive to understand," she heard a man's voice say.

"And you're not listening to me Remus. I am a grown woman who knows her own mind. I understand everything well enough," Cassiopeia paused, her stomach rolling unpleasantly as she heard her sister's voice

"Just drop it," the man said harshly. "It won't happen. You are out of order and you are not welcome." the man said a little harshly. She heard the scrape of a chair as the man stood up.

"Remus," She heard her sister get up, their voices coming closer to the door Cassiopeia was lurking by.

"Leave it." he said, jerking the door open, letting out a little gasp of surprise as he opened it to Cassiopeia.

"Cassiopeia? Are you quite alright?" Lupin asked, his face turning from anger to concern quickly.

Cassiopeia took a quick step back, bumping into the wall in the face of Remus Lupin and her sister who was coming up behind him. Dora sighed, looking tired and very stressed as she ran her hand through her hair, now a muddy brown.

"Cassiopeia, take a seat, you look like you might faint." Remus said, gently pulling her into one of the armchairs in the front room.

"Thank you Remus-I am fine, it looks much worse than it is."

He did not look convinced. "At least come into the kitchen then and have a cuppa?" He insisted.

"He won't let up you know, you might as well listen to him." Dora said softly. Cassiopeia looked at her closely, she looked sad. Put out about something.

She did allow the pair to drag her into the kitchen, which was now slowly filling with people ahead of the meeting.

"Merlin Cass, where have you been! We were worried about you? Even Snape didn't know what happened to you." Mrs Wealsey grabbed her out of Remus and Dora's care and ushered her into a seat, examining her closely with a deep frown.

"Remus, go fetch the first aid kit," Mrs Weasley ordered, "Tonks put on the kettle will you?" she continued.

"No-I appreciate your efforts but-" She tried to protest, tried to squirm out of her chair and away from the overbearing woman.

"Oh hush now, I can fix you up in a moment. I do have six boys you know." Mrs Weasley abdomished, pushing her back into her chair.

"No-you don't understand," She tried once more to move as she saw the matriarchs wand come closer.

"What she is failing to say plainly is that she is forbidden from healing her wounds. It is her punishment, and healing them would inflict much worse." Came Snape's cold drawl as he walked into the kitchen, his face grim as he looked at her.

The kitchen fell silent as they looked at her awkwardly. Mrs Weasley's wand still aloft and Lupin standing in the doorway, holding a first aid kit.

Cassiopeia cleared her throat uncomfortably, colouring under their shocked and horrified gazes.

"It looks much worse than it is," she said softly, hoping that would at least placate their guilt.

The awkward silence continued, everyone looking supremely bothered except for Snape, who took a seat at the table, looking entirely untroubled by the situation.

Prick.

"Tea though would be lovely." She said trying to snap the Weasley woman out of her shocked stupor.

She nodded immediately, busying herself at the stove, perhaps a little too enthusiastically to be believed.

Snape was looking at her closely, his eyes narrowed. "The Dark Lord has issued a new command." He said lowly, still staring.

Only those to their immediate side could hear him.

"Oh?" she asked, feigning disinterest as she examined her fingernails.

"Only He can heal you. No one else. If anyone so much as tries to do more than stabilise a life threatening injury, they are going to be subject to his wrath. He was very clear."

She swallowed thickly, looking around the kitchen desperately as she tried to fight the hollow sinking feeling deep in her chest. She heard a distant buzzing that she knew was just in her head and preceded a full on panic.

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, fighting for control. She could tell from the satisfied quirk of the Professors lips that she had managed to hold onto her control.

"It's like im his bloody pet." she grumbled finally, accepting the tea from a very pale looking Mrs Weasley.

"Indeed." was all Snape said.

She sunk into her chair, hoping to avoid catching the attention of the greater Order as a whole with her appearance. She slunk even further down as Charlie entered, his concerned eyes finding hers immediately as his frown deepened.

He stopped her before she left, it was subtle, a brush of his hand against her wrist. He had slipped something into her pocket. She waited until she was outside and away from others to finally open it.

It was a place and a time, that evening.

She thought about not going, she dreamed about it even, of breaking things off before they got more complicated. Before he learned to hate her.

She was early to their meeting.

He tried to talk to her, tried to understand what she was going through.

She silenced him with a kiss. It was better if he didn't know. He couldn't know her new realities, though he could see it through the bruises across her body.

But she didn't want to talk and he did not make her.

Xxx

"How did they find my house?" she growled, sitting in her Solicitor's office. Miss Mira Lima was Cassiopeia's greatest asset, a ruthless lawyer, muggle born with certifications in both worlds. If the Dark Lord got his way, she would be lost to Cassiopeia and that was simply unacceptable.

"Your council tax and property tax most likely. Your tax rate changed when you took residence, your townhouse became a primary residence instead of a vacation home-this lowered the taxes on it. The Ministry holds these tax records and someone was able to dig through them to find which Lestrange property you were residing in. If you really wanted to hide, you should've rented from a Muggle property like your last flat-that is nearly untraceable-at least to the Ministry."

That got her attention. She had abandoned her last flat in a hurry the day her mother broke out of prison, "Am I still renting that?"

"Yes, though you are currently using it more for storage." Lima said primly, not bothering to look up at her sole client as she sorted through a large pile of paperwork. Cassiopeia kept her busy and she really did not have time for her silly questions.

"Good-untraceable you say?" That was interesting-very interesting.

"Mostly so-you rented it under your muggle alias Mildred Smith, theoretically someone who knew that information would be able to eventually find it if they had access to the muggle records. You pay tax on that property as well obviously" Lima sounded bored.

"If things go bad-we can use that location. Scrub my name from it- can you buy the building? Make it a rent controlled building, affordable housing and all that," Cassiopeia said, gazing off into the distance. She didn't quite know what she was going to do with the building, but it was useful to have a property nobody could trace her to. Not without doing a lot of hard work at least.

Lima sighed, giving her a hard look. "And I suppose you want me to make the purchase untraceable."

"Course-give your team a bonus as well for doing it." She said, reclining in her chair. Lima rolled her eyes, a small smile finding its way onto her face. "You just gave them a bonus."

"Did I?"

"I think you were feeling guilty about something. I must say you have probably the happiest team of lawyers in the city, if not the country. We'll get that building and scrub the records."

She nodded, falling into thought, staring at a particularly garish piece of abstract art Lima had on her wall. The Ministry was watching her, they were following her-or at least trying to. She had to pull some minor trickery to get to Lima without the task force knowing.

"The house in -where was it again? The one I got you?" She asked suddenly,

"Calais," She mumbled hardly paying attention as she scribbled something across one of her documents.

"Right Calais. It's all stocked yeah? And the severance pay for our people-in case the time comes?"

"All in order-I am a little offended that you think me so remiss in my job." She was still writing, not looking up at her employer.

"Things are changing Lima, the world is a dangerous place and things are only going to get worse."

Lima rolled her eyes, signing the document with a flourish before sliding them over. "Sign these."

Cassiopeia didn't even bother glancing at the documents, signing where instructed as she grew lost in her own thoughts. There was something she had to do, and she was dreading it.

"Right i'm off. Stay safe etcetera etcetera," Cassiopeia mumbled, mentally preparing herself for her next encounter.

Lima grunted, still stuck into her paperwork. Cassiopeia smiled slightly while watching the woman work-she was truly an asset and probably one of the most important people in her life after the Tonks'. And not because she possessed a brilliant legal mind. She was a friend and a confidant who knew everything and did not judge her. At least not outwardly.

She took another painkiller as she stalked through the hallways of the Ministry. She ignored everyone and shoved her hands deep in her pockets as she tried to get to her destination quickly.

She had been thinking about this for days, and she decided she could not live with herself if she didn't at least try.

"Miss Lestrange, What do I owe the pleasure? Not looking for a job are you?" Amelia's eyes sparkled warmly as she let the woman into her office.

"Afraid not Miss Bones, but I did want to talk," Cassiopeia took a seat across from the woman at an informal set of couches.

"Of course, I just received some paperwork from your solicitor-Ms Lima is it? Very sharp character that one, did you have a question about that? Or is there something else I can help with?" She asked seriously, the smiling dripping off her face as her eyes turned sharp. All business this woman was.

"Er no, this isn't to do with the paperwork Lima sent over, though if you could do that it would brilliant- I wanted to talk about your position here at the Ministry."

"Oh?" she asked curiously, waiting for Cassiopeia to elaborate more.

"He's back. Officially, though I suspect you've had an inkling of what was happening before the Ministry did."

She tilted her head, not giving anything away as she remained quiet as she waited for Cassiopeia to continue.

"Now that he's back, you have to know that everything has changed Miss Bones and I'm worried. About you mainly. You have a target on your back and they will not be merciful. You are a brilliant witch, and a good person. We need you." Cassiopeia said seriously, leaning forward and looking at the woman in the eye.

A brief look of surprise flickered across her face until she let out a brief laugh. "Is that what you came to talk about? Of course I am a target, I wouldn't be doing my job if I wasn't."

Cassiopeia shook her head in irritation, huffing a little under her breath. "This is different Bones. He'll be coming for you. Soon. You need to resign. Go into hiding, contact Dumbledore, he'll help." She said, perhaps a little desperately.

Amelia grew serious once more, leaning forward to look at Cassiopeia very closely. "Are you threatening me Miss Lestrange?" Her voice was soft as she asked.

She swallowed thickly, "course not. I am worried about you. This isn't some common thug out there... this is the Dark Lord. Dumbledore can help protect you better than the Ministry. Now that he's out, he'll be coming sooner rather than later."

Amelia scrutinised the girl in front of her for a few awkward moments. "If I resign he wins. Let them come, and let them try. Do you think I'm afraid to die Miss Lestrange? I took this position knowing the risks. I put my faith in the Ministry, not Dumbledore."

Cassiopeia scoffed, "the same Ministry that let Malfoy run circles in?"

"The Ministry is not perfect but it is democratic and it represents the people. Albus Dumbledore is one man who is fallible. I am fond of you Miss Lestrange and I think you have the makings to be a truly great curse breaker but make no mistake- I will be loyal to the Ministry to the end." She said firmly

"The end may be sooner than you think Amelia. I hope I'm wrong, but I fear I'm not." Cassiopeia said darkly. This woman was stubborn as a mule and it was going to get her killed.

Amelia frowned, looking very severe as she stood up, signalling the end of their meeting. "And I fear you are coming from a position of authority." She glanced pointedly at her left forearm, "I may not have been in the field for a few years, but that does not mean I am a target to be trifled with." Cassiopeia felt chills erupt across her skin as she felt the air become a little more charged with magical energy.

Amelia Bones was making a point. She may be small in frame but she was powerful. She hoped it was enough.

Cassiopeia nodded, "thank you Miss Bones-Amelia. For everything. I truly mean it. And I hope I'm wrong."

Amelia nodded, "Good Day Miss Lestrange. Let's hope it's a while until we cross paths again." She said stiffly before shutting her office door firmly.

Cassiopeia sighed once more, a pit forming in her stomach. Amelia Bones may be powerful but she was foolish to trust the Ministry. It would only be a matter of time before she fell under the Dark Lord.

Xxx

It was barely half a week before she was summoned again, his need for her outweighing his displeasure towards her. He did not heal her though. She was feeling better as nature took its course, the bruises were fading and were now shadows on her skin.

She was alone when she arrived at the Malfoy Manor, alone with him.

She expected him to be angry, to continue his punishment, but if anything he was amused. He liked seeing her hurt, he enjoyed the way the bruises mottled her skin, and he revelled in the fact that he was the only person who could heal her, who could soothe the physical pain as he continued to cause mental anguish.

He scoffed at the Ministry taskforce, waving away any concerns she may have had her being discovered as a Death Eater.

"Soon Little Lestrange they will be too busy for such foolish games. We must make a statement. We spent our time in the shadows wisely, making inroads and alliances with other maligned creatures. It's time to show them what fear really is." He said softly.

"I await your orders My Lord." She said hollowly, bowing her head.

He smirked, waving his wand and summoning her mask, bright gleaming silver.

"Tonight we go to the West Country-tonight we will show them what power we truly have."

He gave her a wide grin, baring his teeth eagerly, enjoying her inner turmoil.

She reached forward and grabbed her mask, nodding curtly and turning to join the others. Tonight there would be death and destruction, and tomorrow there would be even more. They were no longer hiding, and they would show the world what the Death Eaters were truly capable of.

xxxx

A/N _I am still alive and working on this! Delays are mostly me going through the books and making sure I catch everything that happens in this busy summer. Some much needed encounters in here as the world is coming to terms with the new realities._

 _Shout out to_ _Beesy and_ _AvalonTheLadyKiller_ _for their review!s As always reviews are always loved and appreciated. Also I do not have a beta so apologies for any spelling mistakes or typos-I tend to do this writing in the evening and proofread it a few times, but things are always missed._


	16. Chapter 16: The Storm

Giants.

They set two giants loose in the west country, sending them ahead of the Dark Lord's forces. Their mission was to cause chaos, to spread fear, and make as much noise as possible.

It was pure anarchy, as the Death Eaters were given rein with no rules. They could harm as they like, destroy as they pleased, and kill shamelessly. The Giants spread fear and destroyed whole villages as they rampaged through the countryside, crushing muggles and occasionally eating them.

Cassiopeia found it sickening, and for the first time she was truly party to something greater than war crimes. This was a crime against humanity as a whole.

She tried to help as she could, providing cover for those fleeing, distracting the ruthlessness of the Death Eaters, and pushing people out of the way of the rampaging violence. But the lives she saved was just a drop in the inevitable casualties list.

This was just the beginning. The muggles chalked it up to a particularly savage hurricane and the Ministry was scrambling to protect the secrecy of the wizarding world.

The Dark Lord issued a public ultimatum, either Cornelius Fudge should set aside as Prime Minister-surrender or more muggles would perish.

Fudge of course said publicly that they did not negotiate with terrorists.

They collapsed the Brockdale bridge when it was filled with Muggles leaving a fair at the end of the night. Lurking below the bridge, in the water, was a River Troll who eagerly finished off any unlucky survivors from the fall, the icy water, or the oncoming hypothermia.

Many of the bodies were never recovered. The Muggle media reported it as shoddy infrastructure-a fatal design flaw.

Along with this was a concerted campaign of recruitment in the ministry-both willing and unwilling. In one very high profile case an imperius went wrong forcing a muggle born Junior Minister to be hospitalised in St Mungos. This was also reported in the muggle news.

Cassiopeia was under a great deal of stress- trying to mitigate the death tolls in these attacks. Her ability to act as a useful informant for the Order was hindered by the Dark Lord. He never told her about her part in the attacks until just before, when it was too late to alert anyone else. She was alone and had to improvise her mitigation.

This put her in a tough situation with the Order of the Phoenix, where more and more members were turning against her, finding her excuses too predictable, convenient even, and used a little too much.

She faced distrust there and she wracked her brain with better ways to get the word out ahead of an attack, because right now she was useless. It was like fighting an uphill battle, sisyphus even.

It was a beautiful early summer day when the Dark Lord summoned her to the Malfoy Manor. It was a small meeting, just his inner circle, her mother seated to his right and she to his left. He had a task for them, they were successful in their attacks against the ministry, but they had not caused a significant blow to the Order of the Phoenix.

They needed to kill one of them.

There was a lively debate about who to target. Her mother campaigned for Nymphadora-though she was quickly dismissed as not important enough. It had to be someone who had been there for a while, who dared defy the Dark Lord for years.

The Weasleys were an obvious choice, but they always travelled in packs, it would be difficult to isolate them. There were a few Aurors, but they were hesitant about whether they would be able to lure one away from their duties long enough, and with the Ministry on high alert, Aurors would be the most vigilant of them all.

The Dark Lord finally asked her opinion on the matter, his smile sharp as he called attention to her unusual silence during the debate. She swallowed thickly, thinking through his needs. They wanted to kill someone who had been part of the original Order, a sentinel, someone of reasonable power who would be easy to isolate. Someone without a family preferably, or at least without strong familial ties.

Emmeline Vance. It was the only person who met their criteria. She was one of their strongest witches, she had fought against them in the Department of Mysteries. She was one of the few people who had fought in the first war against the Dark Lord and continued fighting immediately in the second.

He approved, praising her in front of his inner circle. Her mother beamed at her proudly, and her stomach fell knowing she sentenced this woman to death.

She had been the person to do it. To end Emmeline Vance.

Cassiopeia had followed her— she was on assignment for the Order to keep an eye on the muggle ministry officials, looking to see if any nefarious actors moved in on the muggle government.

Because of this they were in Westminster, a hop and a skip away from Downing Street. Cass felt a deep sadness as she shot her first spell at the woman, silencing her. In hindsight she should've killed the woman outright.

Emmeline did not go down without a fight, though silenced she was gifted at non verbal spells and forced Cassiopeia to retreat briefly and regroup. She had heard she was vicious and though Cassiopeia had fought her once, being cornered and alone brought out a different side of her.

Vance was livid, her lips moving and she seemed completely undisturbed by the fact that no sound was emitting. She didn't need sound to get her point across

Cassiopeia could read her lips plainly enough.

 _Traitor_ she mouthed at her, over and over again. _Traitor_.

It wasn't a clean kill. She wished she had been able to do it quicker, without any pain on her victims prt.

It was not meant to be.

She got lost in the violence, surrendering to the hate and rage she normally kept so well contained. She was fuelled by the words on Emmeline's lips.

 _Coward. Traitor. Murderer._

She enjoyed the violence. Enjoying letting loose and letting her magic flow freely.

She was disgusted with herself.

She was ruthless, incapacitating the woman before killing her.

It was a bloody mess and she was forced to leave it as the muggle police sirens sounded nearby.

The Dark Lord was overjoyed. She had struck a blow to the Order and had made it into both the muggle and magical papers. He also enjoyed her shame as she thought back on her actions.

"You were made for this Little Lestrange," he whispered in her ear as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her tight against him. "You were made for me. You can't deny your nature. Relax, let go of those silly misguided morals and enjoy." He purred, waving his hand through the air lazily, shivering as he got lost in her memories, in the heady sensation that power and violence gave her.

"Let me show you. I can give you true power, and all the delightful pleasures that go with it. I can bring you to the edge of ecstasy— a high such as none you've ever had before. Surrender to me Lestrange and let me help you realise your potential." He found her feeble resistance to him amusing.

It was a game to him, coaxing out the inevitable from her. It was why he let her stay in the Order, knowing that she would do anything to undermine him. It was also why he never gave her any information ahead of time— rendering her useless as a source of information for the order.

He moved behind her, one hand remaining in her wrist and his other wrapped loosely around her neck.

"You loved it." He taunted darkly, applying a slight pressure to her neck. "You loved cursing they woman, making her bow to your will, making her hurt, cutting her down and ending her life. You have the ultimate power Little Lestrange- to decide life and death and you were drunk on it. You lost control, got lost in the spells, the curses as you so expertly weaved them. And you _loved_ every second of it."

She got lost in his voice, soft and low- smooth and seductive. She trembled in his hands that were reverently trailing up and down her sides. He held her close, her back flush against his front, his breath tickling her neck as he inhaled her in. She felt dizzy, overwhelmed. He was everywhere—the only thing she could see or hear. He was intoxicating, and she was tired. So very tired and she just wanted to go home. She couldn't think about the terrible things she had done or will do. She could think nothing of her family or friends. She didn't want to think about the truth of his words and the sickening feeling that the truth gave her.

She wanted to give in, to rest her brain, to stop fighting and accept her fate. She almost did, the stress and exhaustion pushing her to the edge.

He was right wasn't he?

It was inevitable. He was inevitable. They were.

She had been born for him and she would probably die for him. She certainly killed for him.

"I have an assignment for you Little one. Think of this as a bonding opportunity. Let me show you what real power is— come with me on this task and I can teach you, nurture your instincts, your rage, and blood lust." He voice deepened as he tempted her.

She was so tired. She couldn't find it in her to resist. And he wasn't asking.

She reached for her wand to summon her mask, feeling hollow and resigned to whatever it was that he wanted her to do it. She would do most anything for him at that moment if it meant she could go home sooner.

He stilled her hand, a sharp smile coming to his face as his eyes glinted dangerously. "For this Little Lestrange— masks are not needed. Our enemy will know our faces and our names as they fall before our wands. There will be no survivors to tell the tale."

She swallowed thickly at his pronouncement, the heaviness returning to her stomach and her soul. Did she even have a soul anymore? She had killed so many— and to do so again so soon? She wasn't sure she could handle it.

"You are strong Lestrange. And you will learn endurance. Come." He was in her mind again, baring his teeth in pleasure as he offered her his arm.

She grabbed it, preparing herself for the apparition.

She blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness outside. They were in the countryside though she could see the lights from a reasonably sized muggle city not too far away. What city it was— she would be hard pressed to say.

They were at the edge of a small forest and in front of them was a stone cottage, a few shining lights on and with smoke coming out of the chimney.

"Come Lestrange" She could feel the magic electrifying the air as the Dark Lord withdrew his wand. "Stay behind me- I think I will keep you as a surprise," he ordered.

So she knew the unfortunate soul inside then. Not well enough to have ever been to their house however.

That did not narrow it down.

Faces flashed through her mind, friends and acquaintances— she wondered who had earned his ire enough to warrant a personal visit from the man himself.

Lionel lived in the country she knew. She hoped it wasn't him.

Theo had a flat in the city, and she knew none of the Weasleys had a place in the country. Bill had a flat in Diagon Alley, and Charlie was in Romania. She wasn't sure where Percy lived but she was fairly sure he wouldn't receive the personal touch.

They had already dealt with Vance— perhaps it was an auror they were visiting.

She's find out soon enough.

The cottage was heavily warded. She felt them by the prickling of her skin as they neared the house. It positively thrummed with powerful enchantments.

It would've taken her days to break through these, easily alerting whoever was inside to her presence.

The Dark Lord never paused, raising his wand as he neared the house and cutting through the wards with a bright flash and a small fizzle.

She gulped, fear and awe filling her form. She followed him, her heart seizing in anticipation and terror.

She glances at the smouldering air, the frayed edges of the protections the Dark Lord simply sliced through. There were several— interconnected and tightly woven.

She swallowed thickly. She had seen the Dark Lord fight before, but it still amazed her the power he commanded, and the graceful ease in how he wielded it.

The house was quiet, its occupant surely realising the wards had been broken.

He blasted the door off its hinges, disintegrating half the wood and sending splinters through the house.

The occupant put up a fight and Cassiopeia carefully edged in, her wand clutched tightly in her hand as she stayed near the perimeter, making herself small.

She didn't dare intervene in the fight. If this person could defeat the Dark Lord then they certainly would make quick work of her. And it wasn't as if He needed any assistance.

The fight had moved to another room before she entered into the flat, she could hear the spells flying, missing their targets by mere centimetres. They were holding their own against him, showing they were powerful. The air was thick with magic, heavy and weighing on her.

The living room was destroyed, and carefully picked around the house, looking for any clue for who they were calling on.

She grimaced as she heard the soft crunch of glass beneath her feet. She reached down and picked up a picture of a young girl, smiling and waving at the camera, her yellow hufflepuff scarf wrapped proudly around her neck.

She had seen her at Hogwarts. A first year when she was in her final year. She did not know her name however.

The fight continued and she felt her Mark flare briefly in annoyance. He had brought her here for a demonstration.

She moved closer to the sounds, the fight sounding no less fierce despite a few minutes passing.

They were very skilled to take on the Dark Lord for more than a few seconds.

She stomach dropped when she rounded the corner and saw just whose house they were in.

Amelia Bones, her face was fierce and she was covered in a fine sheen of sweat as she fought bravely and hopelessly.

It was clear the duel was taking its toll on her, He showed no signs of fatigue. He had a cruel grin on his face as his eyes shined with the thrill of the fight.

Cassiopeia felt pale and cold as she watched the woman fight, terror and dread filling her being. She had warned her, had tried to get her to hide. What she feared was about to come true.

Why didn't she listen to her? Why did she have to stay in her position? How could she have put her faith in the ministry when it was so obvious it was in shambles?

And now the World was about to lose a wonderful, talented, and amazing witch. And Cassiopeia was powerless to do anything about it.

Amelia was sharp, though focussed on the Dark Lord she did not fail to notice Cassiopeia. She frowned deeply and gritted her teeth, doubling down on her duel while also throwing a quick restraining spell at Cassiopeia.

The surprise almost paralysed her, she barely managed to escape the spell, redirecting it so it narrowly missed her.

The moment it took to engage Cassiopeia was a moment wasted as he took advantage of her fatigue and exhaustion. He pressed his advantage, firing spells quickly and with deadly accuracy, forcing her to retreat and defend.

He was overwhelming her, and after a short burst of frantic energy from Amelia, she finally fell to the Dark Lord, writhing in pain on the ground before his wand.

"This is power Little Lestrange, do you feel it? Come-" He beckoned her closer, his eyes shining with bloodlust, his lips curled with cruel pleasure and his body thrumming with energy.

Amelia cough violently when the Dark Lord lifted the spell, moaning on the ground as he handed her the woman's wand.

The Dark Lord wrapped his arm once more around her shoulders, pulling her close to him as they watched the woman try and recover.

Amelia surprised them both with a hollow laugh.

"Cassiopeia. I wish I could say I was surprised but disappointed would be more accurate." Her voice was hoarse and she was limp, on her knees before the pair.

She felt the Dark Lords fingers dig into her in surprise as he examined them both closely, his smile growing sharper as he appraised her.

"I see you two are acquainted then," he murmured. She swallowed, he was warning her.

"Ms Bones and I have known each other for years in passing," she said nervously, her voice wavering slightly.

She was walking a dangerous line here.

"Enlighten me." His voice free lower as he pulled her even tighter against his form.

"She uh, after mother was arrested, she was one of the officials who decided my fate." She started, her voice gaining a little strength

She had to find a way to end this without Amelia's death.

Amelia laughed darkly interrupting her desperate train of thought. Her laugh quickly turned into another wet cough as she panted.

"She was one of mine for a while. A curse breaker and a fine one at that." She coughed again, "What a waste to see her reduced to serving you. St Mungos will feel her absence when she is spending a lifetime in Azkaban."

The Dark Lord silenced her with another curse, turning her into a writhing mess on the ground as he turned to look at her.

She felt him viciously tearing apart her mind, looking for answers and very displeased with the turn of events.

"She is a valuable target My Lord. We can take her and question her. Learn the Ministry's secrets."

He stared at her impassively, making no move to acknowledge what she said.

"We can use her to test new spells my Lord, new curses! Once we break her. I swear we will gain useful information if we take her. She has no wand, she is nothing but an old lady now." She tried to not beg but she was finding it hard.

His face was like stone as he mulled it over.

"Cruciatus," He said softly in response, looking at her expectantly

She balked, her mind racing to find and way out of this situation. His hands dug into her painfully and his stare was growing dangerous. There was no way out.

She looked to Amelia who met her gaze defiantly, raising her head proudly as she met her attacker.

"You're better than this Cass," She said softly

The Dark Lord growled, now squeezing her arm so painfully it was going numb. She was seized in terror.

He changed tact, feeling her fear and uncertainty.

"This is your fate Little Lestrange, your destiny. You know the spell," he whispered into her ear, moving behind her, trailing his hand slowly down her arm, his long fingers wrapping around her own. He was cold, like ice.

"Do it," He insisted, raising her hand up so her wand was pointing at Amelia. He moved his legs between hers, adjusting her stance. "Feel that rage, that hatred in the heart of your chest. Let it fuel you, empower you. Surrender to your desire. To me."

"It's not too late Cassiopeia. You could save your soul." Amelia said softly, staring intently at the girl.

Cassiopeia felt a flash of hot irritation at her words. Save her soul? She had killed for Amelia too, in cold blood. She didn't hear Amelia talking about her soul then. In fact she heard Bones trying to convince her to stay, finding her penchant for violence a desirable trait. Amelia knew what Cassiopeia was capable of, and had in her own way, tried to nurture the same things the Dark Lord was. The irritation ignited something deeper in her. Her rage and hatred mixed with self loathing.

It was all pointless wasn't it? She was had done what she could for the woman. She had tried to warn her, tried to find help for her. And she had been defiant in her refusal, and now she was going to die.

"That's it," the Dark Lord whispered in the shell of her ear, his cheek pressed firmly against hers, his spare hand curling around her waist. This was her life. There was no turning away from this moment. Amelia was dead already. The fact she was still breathing was a mere technicality at this point.

"Give in," the Dark Lord hissed.

"Crucio," the spell hit Amelia hard, throwing her back against the wall.

The cruciatus was intoxicating. The flush of power that moved throughout her body and the excited thrill set her blood racing through her veins, she felt that power travel through her and exit her wand, it was electrifying. She felt hot and cold, her head felt full and fuzzy and she basked in the radiance of the magic. She felt it in her core, the deep thrumming pleasure. The Dark Lord felt it too, his body moving against hers, his arms tightening almost painfully as he pulled her closer against him.

It was obscene.

They both sighed in pleasure as she released the spell, her head was spinning delightfully.

"Tereos next. Concentrate Lestrange. Let's start with your aim," he inhaled deeply, his hand moving over hers to carefully adjust her position.

"Let's start with her wand hand." He instructed.

She nodded. Amelia was already dead. She repeated to herself. Already dead.

Unfortunately for Amelia Bones it took much longer to die than she could imagine.

They used her as an instructional tool, a live target for Cassiopeia to practice with. They started by grinding her bones, twisting them out of shape before they moved on to targeted burning.

The Dark Lord was a patient teacher, much more than her mother had been and he was filled with an almost giddy glee as he felt her finally give in, relax into his arms as she let him teach her.

Amelia's mind went sometime in the middle of the night. It was another 30 mins before they finally ended her, Cassiopeia doing the dark deed.

Amelia made eye contact with her when she cast the final spells her expression blank, and her eyes sad and distant. She was a shell of what she had once been. And it was all Cassiopeia's fault.

She got all the way home before she was sick, spending the evening by her toilet, wrenching with horror and disgust.

She did not sleep that night. Her mind fresh with the awful memories of her crimes.

She wished she was in Azkaban. She wished the war was over. She wished she could be anyone else in the world.

She wished the magic didn't feel so good as she cast it. She wish she could deny that she enjoyed herself that evening.

Cassiopeia wished and then she drank herself into oblivion, chasing her demons in the bottom of a bottle.

Xxx

She was quiet during Order meetings, withdrawn and subdued.

The mood was somber. Emmeline Vance had been with them since the beginning. And now she was gone. A muggle was taken into St Mungos suffering from a poor reaction to the Imperius curse. Fudge was ousted, replaced by a war hawk.

She listened to the reports numbly, picking at her robes as she stared at the table intently. She had nothing to say. She never had anything to say. She was useless to them, and dangerous.

She had killed one of them already.

Dumbledore noticed. She wasn't surprised when he asked for a private word.

"Is everything alright?" He asked softly as he looked at her with concern.

She thought about lying, about brushing him off. She didn't know when she started crying, in fact she was rather stunned by the turn of events.

"I killed Emmeline," she choked out, her shoulders slumping in shame.

Dumbledore looked ancient as he looked down on the crying girl. "I know." He said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"And Amelia," she confessed. He stilled in surprise but he did not remove his hand.

"I shouldn't be here. I have no valuable information. The Dark Lord knows I hate him, he tells me nothing in advance. I am useless to the Order." She said, her stomach twisting.

"We walk a difficult path in war, sometimes there are no right choices. What do you want Cassiopeia? Do you want to leave the Order?" He asked softly.

She sniffed, her tears drying as bitterness and a grim resignation filled her body. "After all of this— I will go to Azkaban." Nothing can justify what she had done. But— did she want to leave? To join him, them, fully? The thought made her feel ill, but she was helping no one in her current role. The Dark Lord treated her as his special pet, his favoured her but he knew he had not won her entirely over yet.

But if she left the Order-gave herself over to him totally, they might have a chance. He might start to trust her.

And if he trusted her, he would give her information that she could feed back to the Order. Perhaps she could trick him. She was already damned. She might as well lean into it to try and gain more information. She sniffed loudly, frowning in thought. It was dangerous. He would kill her if he ever found out.

At this point death did not scare her. She was very close to wishing she were dead, to avoid doing the things he demanded of her. But that was out of the question, a selfish feeling that would damn many more. She had to suffer so she could try and fight, from the inside.

"I think I must leave if I am to be useful. Tell them what I did to Emmeline and Amelia, they will surely vote me out."

He stared at her seriously, his eyes somber. "They will hate you, you won't be able to count on our help and resources." He looked severe as they spoke. What she decided could not be undone.

She nodded, "They should hate me." She deserved their contempt.

The Weasleys would never talk to her again. Charlie would be disgusted, horrified he had ever touched something so vile and evil. And Dora— Dora has always been her champion. This would be a blow to her.

"I will announce it at our next meeting." He said simply, looking resigned.

She nodded, her mind racing. Currently she was always on the edge of things, this would push her into the centre, into key roles with the Dark Lord. How was she going to get information to Order if nobody trusted her.

"I own a flat— nobody knows it's mine and it's been scrubbed if my name- in the muggle world. Dora is the only person, along with Snape and my solicitor I guess who know of the residence. I can slip away and leave messages there. In the letter box."

He nodded, "I will have Miss Tonks monitor the residence."

She nodded, her mind racing as she chewed her lip. So he would tell Dora the truth, that she was still working for them. She wasn't sure how willingly her sister would go on with the plan, not if she knew she killed Vance. Not when she found out about Amelia.

She would prefer to not have to go to Snape. The two kept their distance from each other when around the other Death Eaters. Her mother hated him and she was obligated to treat him with civility and not much more. It would be suspicious if they suddenly started socialising.

"We typically use the Patronus for communication however this calls for discretion." Dumbledore said, understanding the direction her thoughts were going in.

It was good he brought that up. She couldn't cast a Patronus and was loathe to admit it to him. It was one spell she could never master.

"A few of my students came up with a rather ingenious system if I do say so myself," he brought out a coin from his pocket. It looked like any other galleon, but she could sense the enchantment on it.

She looked at it closely, tapping her wand against it a few times, examining the spell. It was simple— the words rearranged themselves to a message, the coins burned when a new message was received. Very clever.

"Miss Tonks will have a matching coin, you can coordinate together then without raising suspicion." He said, giving her one of the coins.

She closed her fist around the coin, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She needed to meditate, to bury this memory deep and to prepare herself for a life fully devoted to the Dark Lord.

"We could always help you hide." Dumbledore offered lowly, watching her closely.

How nice that would be, to sit out the war and hide in blissful ignorance. But she had already done unforgivable things— she was already damned.

"At the end of this, don't do for me what you did for Snape. I deserve Azkaban for my crimes. It's the least I can do to try and help in whatever way I can." She said darkly.

Sitting in Azkaban away from it all sounded like a holiday. Away from Him. Dumbledore looked at her sadly, nodding in understanding.

"You don't deserve this," he said.

She shrugged, when has that ever mattered in her life? She maybe didn't deserve it when she was younger, but Cassiopeia had come too far. She deserved every miserable moment of her life.

She clutched the coin and with a terse nod she left, never to come back to this place again.

As she predicted the Dark Lord was overjoyed at her expulsion from the Order. He saw it as the final severance with her past life. He waved her apologies away-as he had ordered her there in the first place, pleased his plan went the way he expected. He had isolated her from her friends and family, it took longer than he had hoped, but the task was done now.

Her false family loathed her, and she had come to him. She belonged to him fully. He threw a party for her, a grand banquet for his followers as they celebrated the fall of Fudge and the elevation of Cassiopeia Lestrange.

Xxx

It was two weeks later when Snape sent for her urgently, his pearlescent doe Patronus waking her up in the middle of the night.

There was a curse that needed to be broken. She came at once knowing it must be serious given her recent persona non grata status. She was surprised when she came followed the Doe to Hogwarts and not some house of an Order member. Even more surprised when it led her to the headmasters office.

Snape was bent over Dumbledore who looked sickly and weak, covered in a fine sheen of sweat. She gulped when she saw his hand, black and shrivelled, with the curse travelling up his arm.

She pushed Snape aside who nearly growled at her. He looked desperate and horrified but nonetheless moved out of her way.

"What happened?" She asked lowly, her wand out and already casting a series of diagnostic spells. She could see the spell working under Dumbledores skin, growing and spreading, hungry for the kill.

He had maybe an hour— two if he was lucky if she couldn't stop it.

"The ring, that's what did it." Snape said urgently. She nodded moving away to examine a broken ring.

It was inert whatever had been there was how long gone.

"How did you break it," she asked, looking at the ring that held the curse, warily nudging it with her wand.

A one shot likely, a curse that was designed to hurt the first person it touched. It jumped from the ring into Dumbledore, preserving itself. A sort of survival instinct she had observed in other curses.

"The sword," he said weakly, pointing to the object thrown haphazardly from his desk. Her eyebrows rose as she looked at the sword. How curious such an object could cut through the powerful magic. She'd have to examine it later though. The curse was still travelling up his arm.

She gently pushed Snape away from the headmaster, his eyes trained and focused on slowing the curse. He was doing a good job, but he was having no permanent effect on the curse.

The second he stopped muttering the curse gained speed, visibly spreading like cold molasses. Slowly but steadily.

He cursed the headmaster for his idiocy, running a hand through his already mussed up hair.

She surveyed the situation, her mind racing with the best way to proceed. "Snape keep muttering, slow it down while I examine the magic," she said letting the man resume what he was doing.

She frowned, her mind focussing as she examined the curse, bringing up the spell structure. Whoever made this was amazing. The magic was almost alive, adapting to her prodding, trying to evade detection, inspection. However no magic was truly alive, it may replicate life but it always paled from the real thing. She was able to find its pattern of evasion, able to guess its next two moves.

Once that happened it was fairly easy to truly investigate the curse. It was a nasty one, causing necrotic damage as it went. The further she investigated it the more concerned she grew. The damage that had occurred for sure was irreversible. The skin cells had been starved of moisture and had died. There was no magic in existence that could bring back what was dead

The more she studied the curse, the more her heart dropped. Destroying the vessel weakened the curse, She could slow it to a creep... but it's poison was already present and there was no way to extract it.

Well. There was one way, but the idiot man had put the ring on his right hand. His wand hand. Amputation was clearly not an option.

As gifted of a wizard that Dumbledore was, changing wand hands in the middle of the war was not ideal.

"It seems we've come to the same conclusion Miss Lestrange." Dumbledore said serenely, delicately blotting sweat off his brow.

"I can slow it, but you likely won't survive beyond a year." She said grimly, looking at him closely.

He was not surprised, having come to the same conclusion himself before he summoned her.

"Alas, a second opinion is what I needed to hear." He said softly, looking completely unphased from his new found fate.

Snape looked murderous, the only thing keeping him from raging is his continued effort to keep the spell slow.

"Would you mind doing the honours Cassiopeia?" He asked tiredly.

She nodded, "keep that up Professor please while I work." She drew a deep breath and focussed on the curse, on the structure, the movements of it.

She forgot how much she loved curse breaking, she lived the stillness of it, the concentration, and how she got lost in the work it was one of the few things that calmed her mind.

Even in the grimmest circumstances she found it soothing.

It took another fifteen minutes to cast the complicated containment spell. It would need to be refreshed perhaps bi weekly as the curse fought against its barriers but she had faith Dumbledore was more than competent to do the upkeep.

The man himself sighed when she was done, relaxing into his chair and closed his eyes as he gave into the exhaustion.

It was amazing that he was even still alive and was a testament to his skill as a wizard. That curse would've killed anyone else within minutes. He had survived at least an hour without containment.

She sat back in one of the chairs as Snape began his angry tirade he had been holding back.

She was surprised at the vehemence and rage in Snape's voice as he tore into the old man. She was also impressed with his colourful cursing. She has never witnessed the man so angry at anything. She had clearly underestimated their relationship.

"We all have to die sometime Severus," he said serenely, smiling at Snape. "And I have been fortunate to have lived an unusually full and long life." He said.

She was uncomfortable, feeling like an intruder in their moment. These men clearly had history with each other, and she knew Snape would loathe her to see him so vulnerable.

She cleared her throat, "if you don't mind sirs, I will take my leave. You need to strengthen my spell every few weeks, more if you are exerting yourself. I trust you can handle that?" She asked, just to be sure.

"Of course. Thank you Miss Lestrange, I owe you a debt of gratitude." He said very solemnly.

She coughed uncomfortably. She owed him far more than that, but now was not the time. "You know who to call for curse breaking." She said, inclining her head. "Professors." She bid them farewell, letting herself out of his office.

It was strange being back at the school, she felt almost nostalgic of how simple life had been back then. Now it's corridors were empty as the students were home for the holidays and the few teachers who remained were fast asleep.

She met nobody on her way out, walking quickly to the gates and apparating to the first of several locations before going home.

Xxx

The Dark Lord wasted no time in elevating her status. He gave her a unit to command, he gave her free reign to plan attacks, to continue their campaign of terror and chaos. She was constantly busy, organising his troops and his allies, choosing targets, and finding ways to cause mass chaos with minimal actual loss of life.

She was allowed to talk to her family once more. When she wasn't planning attacks she spent her time with Narcissa who had grown even paler in the weeks since her husband went to Azkaban.

The Dark Lord was still angry about Lucius's cock up at the Ministry and he was actively punishing the Malfoy family. He had made Draco a Death Eater and was 'honoured' with an impossible task.

She almost collapsed when Narcissa confided in her what Draco was supposed to do. He was tasked with killing Albus Dumbledore.

It was a mission he would surely fail, which would bring more shame and ruin to the Malfoy family, and would likely end with Draco joining his father in Azkaban or dead.

Whenever she glimpsed her cousin his face was shuttered and he looked unusually serious. He shunned her company however, wary of her help. It was his task not hers, she had other things that needed seeing to. He would snap at her when she tried to approach him, and she couldn't help the anxious gnawing in her stomach whenever she thought about Draco's lot.

She didn't know her cousin well, the age difference and her own selfishness hindered their ability to bond before the war, but she knew Draco wanted to be like his father. His problem was that he was too much like his mother, he could bluster and pretend all he liked, but Draco was not made like her, he couldn't kill. And if he did, it would ruin him.

"We are dealing with it," Narcissa said sharply whenever Cassiopeia brought it up. "I am dealing with it. Just be prepared to help him when he says." and she would change the subject.

She stared at the woman suspiciously. She had thought the effective death sentence on her son's life would cause her to spiral into despair, but she had a steely conviction about herself. She had done something to help her son, and she did not want Cassiopeia to know.

She frowned and fingered her fake galleon, staring off into space. She had not seen Dora yet, filling her letterbox with news and alerting her after the fact to ensure they did not cross paths. She would have to tell Dora about this latest update, sooner rather than later and she wondered if she could get away with never seeing the woman again. She didn't think she could handle the hatred that would surely be present in her eyes.

She sighed, wincing as she felt the oncoming headache. There was so much work to do, and there was much she needed to write to Dora. She needed to get cracking on it.

xxx

 _a/n things are changing, roles are changing, and it's about time Cassiopeia fell all the way into the pit. Reviews are greatly appreciated as well as any constructive_ _criticism_ _or_ _discussions_ _! Thanks for reading_


	17. Chapter 17: Recruit

She avoided Dora at first. Cowardly dropping letters and alerting the girl after the fact about their existence.

She couldn't bear the thought of confronting the girl directly. She couldn't think about confronting most of the Order, the Weasleys included. But Dora, she would be the hardest.

She had fought so hard for her relationship with the girl. She had tried to convince her she was better but in the end, Dora had been right about her all along. Their brief friendship, strong and amazing as it was, was nothing more than a sham— a shared delusion.

Knowing she had alerted no one of her arrival, and given the late hour, she was therefore surprised to see the lights in her old flat on.

She drew her wand nervously, her stomach flipping unpleasantly as she neared her front door. Did somebody find her place? Had they been compromised? How did this happen?

She carefully edged the door open, holding her breath and slowly pushed her way in quietly.

The scene shocked her.

It was Nymphadora, she was listening to music on her record player and was crying. Actually crying.

In all of her years she didn't think she had actually ever seen her cry.

Her hair was a light brown, Ted's hair, and everything about her was normal—drab.

Her clothes were black, simple muggle wear and she looked as if she had no makeup. She released all of her enchantments and configurations, her metamorphmagus charms gone so she was just herself.

"What are you listening to?" Cassiopeia couldn't help herself. This was not one of her records.

Dora sat up quickly in surprise, sniffing loudly and raising her wand in alarm. She stiffened when she saw who was there.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was thick and she tried to clear her throat without much luck.

Cassiopeia waved the letter in the air like a white flag, very conscious she still had a wand pointed at her.

"Right." She coughed, pocketing her wand and wiping her tears. "I come here to be alone. I reckon nobody knows this place," she had the good sense to look embarrassed by this fact.

Cassiopeia moved through the room slowly, still wary of the girl and also deeply concerned. She had never seen Dora cry and seeing her vulnerable spun her out.

"What's wrong?" She asked softly, easing herself down on the couch next to Dora. She pulled her legs in closer, away from Cassiopeia and wrapped her arms around them. "Noffing" she mumbled into her legs.

Cassiopeia reached out, resting her hand carefully on her knee. Dora jerked further back once more.

"Dora, you can tell me. I promise I will help if I can," she almost whispered, moving closer to the girl.

She let out the quietest sob Cassiopeia had ever heard. She was hurting, bad.

"Just drop it Cass, there is nothing you can do." She sniffed.

Her eyebrows furrowed and her hand fluttered as she went to reach out and comfort her sister.

But that was just it. Dora didn't want her comfort.

"It might help if you talk about it," she said softly, trying to catch her eye. Dora just shrugged and looked away. "Or we can talk about other things, take your mind off of whatever is bothering you," she suggested.

Dora gave a bitter laugh as she glared at her sister, "what could we possibly talk about that would take my mind off Remus? What lighthearted topic did you have in mind? How many people you've hurt? What funny thing your blood purist snob of an aunt said last week?" She snapped, her hair turning red in irritation.

Cassiopeia flushed, biting her tongue to keep her angry retort at bay. She was lashing out, trying to distract her. It was fine.

"Remus? What did he do?" She asked, not missing the slip of information.

Dora blushed as she realised her mistake, her hair melting back to brown. "He-ah-it's stupid." She muttered

Cassiopeia was shaking her head, moving closer to her sister, careful not to actually touch her. Dora made it clear she would not welcome it.

"It's not stupid if it makes you feel this way. Please Dora, tell me." She was beginning to suspect what this was about. The conversation she overheard a few weeks ago, the way she hovered near Lupin in the meetings.

"You fancy him don't you?" Cassiopeia surmised. Dora buried her head once more into her knees. "But he doesn't fancy you back,"

"I know he feels the same way," Cassiopeia was taken aback by the force and vehemence in her voice. She sounded so certain. "I see it, the way he looks at me, how he acts around me. He is afraid for no reason, I don't care what he is." She said fiercely.

Of course. He was a werewolf wasn't he. He must be trying to protect her. He was also a fair bit older than her if she recalled.

"He's a git. And a man. Men are gits. He'll see reason eventually and realise what a tosser he's been." She tried to soothe the girl.

Dora stares glumly at the floor. "He's been very clear" She muttered. "I just— I've never felt this way about anyone you know? If he's so dangerous why does he make me feel so safe?"

"He _is_ dangerous Dora," she raised her hands quickly at the fire that was burning in her eyes, "Hold on, let me speak. He can be dangerous, once a month. But he's not like the other werewolves I've seen, he's tame, in control most of the time. We are in a war right now Dora, we are on the front lines and could die any day, the threat Lupin poses to you is negligible. I think we need to hold onto those things that make us happy and safe dear, especially now when everything is so bleak." Dora stared at her for so long that Cassiopeia had to look away in embarrassment.

"Otherwise I could threaten him for you," she quipped, trying to bring some humour to the unusually heavy tension that fell between them.

Dora snorted, "and say what? You'll beat him up if he doesn't ask me out?"

Cassiopeia smiled, "something like that."

Dora smirked, giving her a weird look. After an awkward few beats Dora reached over suddenly, pulling her into a tight hug. Cassiopeia reciprocated immediately burying her head in her sisters hair as she leaned awkwardly across the couch.

"Is it true?" Dora asked, whispering in her ear.

Cassiopeia hesitated, unwilling to ruin this moment. She couldn't bring herself to speak, she just nodded. She felt Dora twitch, her arms loosen as if she was about to pull away from her. "Do you feel sorry?" Cassiopeia nodded once more, feeling the guilt and pain begin to fill her.

"Could you save them?" She could hear the change in her tone as she squeezed the girl tighter, stopping her from pulling away.

"No," she burst out, feeling the shame and sorrow.

"There are so many I can't save Dora. The best I can give them is a quick death, and even then?" She sniffed, trailing off. It had not been a quick death for Amelia or Emmeline. She had to be better.

Dora was quiet, clutching her sister. "Mum is worried about you. She's afraid to ask after you, they both are." Dora said, finally pulling away. Cassiopeia was heartened to see that she remained close.

"How are they?" She asked, she hasn't seen her family in half a year. It was the longest she had ever gone without seeing them.

"Fine. They're worried mostly. Dad goes to work everyday, still optimistic but mum is quiet. She's seen this before obviously." Dora said, fidgeting. "They hate i'm in the Order. It worries them. But they understand." She continued.

Cassiopeia nodded looking away. She had given them money, a property to escape to when things got had. She hoped they'd go soon.

"Do they—" She faltered, not certain she really wanted to know the answer to her question, "do they know about me?" She asked nervously.

Dora gave her a long look, as if she were sizing her up, before nodding slowly. "They do I think. I never told them, but mum knew. She is the one who helped me understand you know; what it's like for you. Being a pure blood, having your mother back in your life. Did you know that after everything that's happened she still doesn't hate your mum?" She asked, bewilderment colouring her time as she recalled the last serious conversation she had with her mum

Cassiopeia snorted, understanding Andromeda's position. She didn't hate her mum either. She disagreed with her and defied her, feared her and resented her. But hate was not as forthcoming as she would like.

"Mum is...complicated." Was all she would say. The woman was mental, she was a mass murderer, very probably a sadist but she was also strong, independent, and fierce. She defied what it was to be a pure blooded woman. She was a force of nature who bowed to only one person. She could only imagine what sort of person she was before she met the Dark Lord, when Andromeda knew her.

It was getting late, and the two girls reluctantly parted. They were in the thick of war and they both knew their time was precious and likely numbered.

Cassiopeia said I love you before leaving, her cheeks burning as she turned to leave.

XX

The Dark Lord has raised her status. She was training the new recruits and she was building her own team that she would lead into battle and on missions.

Her days were spent planning attacks and high profile kidnappings. She helped coordinate the best place to let Dementors loose, she organised the kidnapping for Fortescue and was going to lead a small team to grab Ollivander. She would do the latter mission with her mother's help, a bonding moment he had said when he announced it.

She and her mother locked themselves away, carefully planning the best way to kidnap a man without anyone realising. The Dark lord wanted it discreet. Everyone knew very well they could cause chaos and panic. But he wanted the world to know that they could make people disappear quietly, as if it never happened.

Cassiopeia took the lead on the kidnapping, choosing a small team of her best recruits everyone except her mother had been trained by her personally. She knew them well and knew what they were capable of.

She took three of them, having two lock away the perimeter and one enter in before herself and Bellatrix.

Cassiopeia would do the talking but Bellatrix would be visibly present at all times. She was there as their strongest duellist and to intimidate the prisoner into coming with them quietly.

The Dark Lord had few Death Eaters more fearsome than Bellatrix Lestrange. Cassiopeia had seen herself how some chose to surrender over duelling someone as malicious as her.

Ollovander was a smart man. He would come quietly. At least she hoped.

They went in the dead of night, moving like wraiths through the empty streets of Diagon Alley. She had cast disillusionment charms and sound dampening charms on all of them. That coupled with a notice me not charm kept all the inhabitants blissfully unaware of what was happening.

Cassiopeia took the lead, vanishing away her mask as she entered the old shop, cutting through the wards as if they were barely there. The Dark Lord taught her well for such a task.

Bellatrix followed quickly, hanging to her right and her recruit was to her left, his wand ready and eyes sharp as he looked around.

She approved. Most of the Dark Lord's recruits were imbeciles. Pure bred to the point of genetic defect. This lot were half bloods, blood thirsty and clever. They were dangerous and capable- best kept under her thumb and close where she could keep an eye on them.

There was a light turned on in the back of the shop, Ollivander was still up and they could hear the faint tinkle of music.

She signalled quiet by putting her finger to her lips and gestured for both Bellatrix and her lackey to go down either side of his shop, through towering aisles of wands. They would flank him and await her signal.

She took the most direct route, her wand held up and her demeanour cautious. Ollivander was a wildcard. Nobody knew what his magical skill was as he was rarely seen outside his shop. He was a wand maker and a magical theoretician— Cassiopeia reckoned he'd be fairly formidable if it came to blows. She hoped it didn't.

As she got closer she could hear Ollivander humming lightly to a tune that was playing from the wizarding wireless.

"Evening Mr Ollivander," she said smoothly, smiling genially up at the man.

He started, dropping his tool and swivelling his head around to look at her. He was wearing a set of magnifying glasses, making his eyes seem unusually large and startled.

He relaxed when he saw it was her, smiling in return and taking off his glasses.

"Miss Tonks, Hawthorne 13 inches with a phoenix feather core, quite bendy. Looks like you've been keeping it in good condition. You must excuse me, I wasn't expecting anyone this late,"

She stiffened at her name, shaking her head in irritation. She could see her mother and her recruit melt out of the shadows, effectively blocking his exits.

"Come now Ollivander, you always knew I wasn't one of them," She bared her teeth in a sharp smile. He nodded his head sagely, "Of course. I had forgotten you changed your name. My deepest apologies Miss Lestrange." He bowed his head briefly, before turning his sharp eyes to her. "To what do I owe this pleasure at such a late hour?" He tilted his head, catching a glimpse of Bellatrix and her recruit.

"Madame Lestrange and Mr Snyde. Perhaps I should put in some tea," he said mildly, looking between the three.

"Tea won't be necessary Ollivander, thank you very much. I believe you know why we are here, are you going to give us any trouble? " she tightened her grip on her wand slightly.

He stilled for a moment, thinking through his options while frowning. "Shall I pack a bag then?" He asked.

Bellatrix gave a short burst of laughter at the question, mirth shining in her eyes. "It's not that kind of outing old man," she hissed.

Cassiopeia eyed her mother carefully, she was getting impatient. "Unfortunately Mr Ollivander our first quarters are quite small there won't be much use for personal effects. But you have an eager audience awaiting your arrival— it would be best to not keep him waiting." She was polite but firm. She didn't want to hurt the man, but she would if needed.

He nodded, "am I to expect my stay to be long?" He was calm, it was as if they were talking about going for a pleasant stroll.

"Indefinitely," Snyde growled. She eyed her recruit sharply. He had no permission to speak. Only Bellatrix could get away with that. But she would deal with that later, it would not do to argue in front of Ollivander.

He sighed, looking quite resigned and tired. "I have been in this shop for over 60 years. I remember every wand I've ever sold, seen every Hogwarts student for decades. This will be the first year that I won't have the pleasure to meet the next generation."

Cassiopeia knew Ollivander was old but he always has a certain energy, a life to him. The prospect of not meeting the new students seemed to rob him of that. He deflated, holding his hands out in surrender.

"Best not to fight," he said. Cassiopeia didn't relax until she had him restrained fully.

"Search him," she barked at Snyde who relieved Ollivander if no less than three wands hidden in his person. He shrugged, giving her a tight smile.

"Come on," She said, prodding Ollivander to a larger portion of the shop that they could comfortably side apparate.

She went first, taking Ollivander personally. Bellatrix and Snyde would muss up the scene and retreat.

She let go of Ollivander and pressed her wand to her Dark mark, summoning him, and she fell to her knees when the man in question entered.

"My Ollivander," He greeted in his high, cold voice. The Dark Lord was pleased, she could feel it in the way he hovered behind her, as he gently rested his hand fondly in her head.

Mr Ollivander was pale and trembling, trying to look brave but failing. There wasn't anything she could do to help him. "I see you've met my pet. My Little Lestrange. Charming isn't she?" He said conversationally.

Ollivander shook, "We have been acquainted. Both her wands were made by me, as was yours" He wavered.

"Yes, wands. Let's discuss that further Ollivander. Leave us Lestrange."

She stood smoothly, casting a quick sorry look at me Ollivander before hurrying out.

Now that the manor had guests in their dungeons, she asked for oversight of the prisoners. The Dark lord acquiesced more out of lack of caring than anything. It wasn't important to him if they were fed or taken care of. In fact she was certain he had forgotten who exactly was in there.

She did her duty alone, none of the other Death Eaters caring for the dark, damp, and smelly job. She would feed the prisoners as well as she could, gave them water and occasionally magicked away the messes they made. Weekly she would permit them a shower if she could get away with it, otherwise magic would do the trick. She kept the prisoners close to each other, understanding isolation was torture in and if itself. And it wasn't long before Ollivander was joined for Florean Fortescue who did put up a fight when she went to fetch him.

He had been a skilled opponent but not skilled enough against three. She didn't know why the Dark Lord wanted these men, but she did what she could to lessen their pain.

She also spent time with Draco, or tried to before he went back to school. He was withdrawn and pale. She could see he was terrified and angry, a dangerous combination.

The Dark Lord ordered her to train him, but there was little they could do while he was 16. They instead focussed on foot work, balance, conditioning, and theoretical magic.

He wouldn't speak to her about his task. He wouldn't speak to anyone. But he did take his lessons very seriously, and she found him practicing his balance and footwork a few times over the last few weeks of summer holiday.

The Dark Lord approved of her spending time with Draco, he needed good role models. He had doubts as she did, and it would be good for him to see someone who surrendered to him entirely.

And so she found herself leaving her duties for the day to accompany Draco to Diagon Alley. Draco was in a strop complaining that he was old enough to do his own shopping. She found it amusing, Narcissa did not. So he settled for walking a few feet ahead of them always.

She stood between Narcissa and Draco, understanding his mood was affecting Narcissa terribly. "Teenagers Aunt Cissy. I was much worse." She tried to placate the woman.

Narcissa gave her half a glance and a tight smile, "did you do this to them?" She asked quietly, careful not to say their name.

"I ran away from home for months and lived on the streets." She said smirking, remembering her time in the muggle world fondly. That had been freedom.

Narcissa snorted, her anxiety lightened for just a moment before her frown appeared one more. "I'll talk to him."

She picked up her pace to match the grim teenager in front of her. She couldn't imagine what he was going through, he had been marked a man by the Dark Lord, had been given an impossible task, his father was in Azkaban and his home was invaded by the devil incarnate. That mixed in with the normal teenage angst meant that Draco did have a very strong reason to be angry.

But that didn't make him right.

She wrapped her arm around her little cousin, who now stood as tall as her, and gave him a bright smile. He tensed, trying to squirm out of her grasp but she strengthened her grip. He may be younger, but she was stronger.

"Lighten up on your mother. She knows you're old enough to do your own shopping, but she wants to spend time with you because she loves you." She said lowly in his ear.

He huffed angrily when he realised he couldn't escape her grip. "What business is it to you. S'not like you've been around." He said lowly.

Ouch. That was fair if a bit low.

"I care because I would kill to have a mother like yours. Narcissa would do anything for you, literally anything. She loves you more than anything in this world, including your father. Let her spend time with you, or at least complain less." She said.

Draco looked at her, his eyebrows furrowed as he examined her closely. "I just—it's embarrassing, she can be embarrassing." He said.

She laughed, "Draco, mothers are supposed to be embarrassing. And most people will relate to that and feel for you. Just do this for her yeah? You can be stroppy, but be stroppy close to her and let her love you," she said, giving him a final squeeze. He still scowled but took her advice and scowled next to his mother who beamed brightly, smiling warmly at her son.

Cassiopeia was surprised to feel the lancing jealousy as she watched the pair. Nobody had ever looked at her like that, with unconditional love. The Tonks' loved her sure, but not like Narcissa loved her son. That was something special.

"Madam Malkins I think for some dress robes," Narcissa said, "and we can pick up a few things for you as well Cass." Her eyes twinkling mischievously.

She stopped. "Er.. maybe another time Auntie. Why don't I grab Draco's books hmm?" She snatched the list out of Narcissa's hand and scurried away, Narcissa's laughter echoing behind her.

Going robe fitting with Narcissa was a black hole she didn't want to be trapped in. She took her time in Flourish and Botts, picking up a few interesting books for herself and Draco's textbooks. So wrapped up in her shopping she didn't even notice the Weasleys until they were nearly upon her.

Molly was too engrossed in her lists, worry lining her brow as she tried to do her shopping as quickly as possible, throwing books towards Arthur.

She was struck very powerfully with the memory of the first time she saw Mrs Weasley it was in this very bookstore, years ago when she had first run away. Molly had been anxious too, very much like she was now.

She stared at the woman, who took no notice of her, and when she was finally able to shake free of her memory, she realised she had not gone as unnoticed as she initially thought. Mr Weasley was looking at her, his eyebrows furrowed as she gave her a hard look. When she moved he shook his head slightly, looking at his wife. He didn't want her to notice. He wanted her to stay away from them, to stay in the shadows.

Her heart sank but she stayed where she was, letting the Weasleys pass her without word. She paid for her purchases and hurried out of the shop.

On her way back to the robemakers she was caught by the sudden blaring eyesore of a shop that was filled to the brim with revellers and students.

Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes.

She looked around quickly, looking for any familiar faces before ducking into the shop.

It was brilliant. She was amazed by the variety of products on offer and quickly picked up a few pieces herself that would be handy.

"Cassiopeia?!" She heard the cheerful call of one of the proprietors. She winced, she suppose it would have been nearly impossible to avoid see either of the owners, despite how packed it was.

"Fred! Or is it George?" She said brightly, accepting the hug from him. "Call me Gred. Or Forge" he said with a wide smile.

"So this is your place then? Business looks good." She said conversationally

"Yes it's been alright, what have you got there?" He asked noticing the little basket she was carrying.

"Oh," She coloured, "some of that night powder." She said feeling suddenly very guilty.

She was going to use their goods, meant for revelry and mischief to help the enemy. That wasn't right.

"Only the finest! Have you seen our Pygmy puffs? Aren't they adorable?" Fred or George, one of the twins led her to the cage of bright pink monstrosities.

What followed was a quick tour of the shop and another hug from the other Weasley twin.

"This is brilliant guys, you mum must be livid." She said with a smirk.

The boys exchanged a knowing look. "She's not too happy but she can't say we aren't doing well!"

She was happy for the boys, truly and after she paid for her purchases they were escorting her out when she saw an advert that stopped her in her tracks.

WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO?

YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT U-NO-POO—

THE CONSTIPATION SENSATION THAT'S GRIPPING THE NATION!

She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her and the soft sort of moan she heard behind her.

Mrs Weasley was standing to the side, her eyes transfixed on the same advert, looking very pale.

"They'll be murdered in their beds." She muttered lowly, before turning to look at Cassiopeia, finally noticing her. If anything she turned grey as her eyes widened in horror.

She felt a stab of pain to see Mrs Weasley have a reaction like that to her.

"It'll be fine." She said softly, giving her a hasty smile before turning to leave. Or at least trying to.

"Cass! It's been ages!" She felt the hug come from behind, this time by Ginny Weasley who beamed up at her.

She smiled, returning the hug and looking nervously to Mrs Weasley who looked somehow both horrified and angry.

"Hey Ginny, how're you? Excited for your fifth year?" She said politely, very conscious of Mrs Weasley glaring daggers and clutching her wand.

"Looking forward to playing some quidditch. This year is our year, now that Harry is captain." She smirked.

"Glad to hear that, I'll keep an eye out in the papers for the scores. Er it was nice seeing you Ginny, say hello to your brothers, but I must get going." She said, her eyes catching Narcissa down the street, looking around in frustration. It seemed that Draco got the best of her.

"You should come over for dinner before we go! I know Charlie would love to see you," Ginnny said insistently, giving her a sly smile. "He misses you terribly."

Cassiopeia's heart stuttered for a moment at the mention of the older Weasley boy that she had effectively abandoned. She figured she understood that they were no longer viable, in fact she reckoned he didn't even want to be anywhere near her.

"Cassiopeia is too busy to come over Ginny. Now go inside and support your brothers,``Mr Weasley finally stepped in, talking to his daughter firmly, staring daggers at Cassiopeia. Ginny looked between the two curiously before going inside with a shrug and a quick goodbye.

The tension between her and Arthur made her stomach clench. She wilted under his gaze, "I mean your family no harm. You must know that." She said lowly, ducking her head.

Arthur let the silence stretch out. "For now. Until he orders it." He said softly, his gaze hard.

She flinched, "I couldn't." She said softly, "I wouldn't." But even as she said it, doubt leaked into her voice. She had killed Amelia when she thought she couldn't. Would it be that much harder for the Weasleys?

"Just go Lestrange. You're not welcome here."

And that hurt her the most. She left, her heart aching as she joined her aunt who was also wallowing in her own self pity. Draco had slipped away and was nowhere to be found.

They did the rest of his shopping for him and when they finally found him hours later he had nothing to say for himself and they had nothing to say to him.

Cassiopeia saw the pair off, deciding to stay for a drink in a pub in knockturn alley. She needed somewhere that served strong alcohol, cheaply.

It was finally sinking in, the choices she made to get to where she was. And she deserved it. She had always gotten away with things in the past, awful things she had done. She had spent years hiding, years plotting and trying to be a better person. And finally, it was all over. She was found out and she was receiving the hatred and scorn that she deserved.

The way her luck had been going that day she wasn't even that surprised to feel the presence of someone next to her, who was already motioning for two fresh drinks

"You look like shite," the man said casually, reclining easily against the bar and smirking at her.

"It's because I saw you Jovius, you have that effect on me."

He smirked at her, taking a deep swig from his drink.

"How's life under surveillance?" He asked, peering at her carefully

She closed her eyes and sighed. The Ministry Task Force hadn't searched her house yet, but they were quite keen on following her hopelessly.

"Tiresome." She grunted unto her whiskey.

"How's the mercenary life?" She asked

He shrugged casually, shooting her a quick smirk. "War is good for business but the pay has gotten decidedly stagnant. What with people pitching in because their morals." He bit out the last word as if it were a particular tough piece of gristle.

She snorted, "and what the fuck are those?"

He grinned sharply, "heard you've got yourself a nice little gig going on," he leaned over closer and dropped his voice.

"I'm interested if you were looking" He was speaking directly into her ear and she still had to strain to hear him.

She felt the whisky sour on her tongue as he made his request. Jovius? A Death Eater? That was a dangerous thought.

"And just where did you hear this Jovius?" She asked carefully eyeing him.

She was supposed to be looking for recruits and Jovius was both clever and dangerous.

He smirked wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to him. "I have ears everywhere Lestrange. And it could be fun, me and you were always a good match. " he said

Cassiopeia closed her eyes as she listened to his voice. She hasn't seen Caecilius in about a year, when they beat each other into a bloody pulp. She wondered who would win if they fought today. She had barely won the last time, and only because she made it physical.

He knew her Aunt Narcissa, Cissy even tried to set them up, oblivious to the fact that they were already acquainted. And was that such a bad idea now? She had been with Charlie then, secretly hiding away to meet up. But now, Charlie was a thing of the past and she was alone, and Jovius was a dangerous drug, just waiting to be sampled.

She stood from her stool and turned to Caecilius, her eyes burning with reckless energy. "How about," she took a step closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning up to whisper in his ear, "we continue this back at my place Jovius."

Jovius would find his way into the organisation if he really wanted to, and he was a good recruit. He would be dangerous and she much preferred the most dangerous close to her where she could keep an eye on him.

And, she thought as he wrapped his arms around her. He was fit and she was single. Jovius could be fun, and he always intrigued her. Perhaps it was finally time to take him up on his offer for a good fuck. Merlin knew she needed it.

"Lead the way Lestrange," He smirked sharply,

She buried her hands in his hair, tugging on it sharply as she apparated them to several locations in rapid succession before finally arriving to her house.

He was breathless, his eyes shining with the same reckless abandon she felt running through her veins. Being out in public, shunned by the Wealseys set her blood on fire with guilt and sorrow, she felt like she was drowning in her decisions. She needed to do careless, even dangerous to make up for it, and Jovius seemed like the perfect outlet.

She wasn't sure how it started, perhaps he twisted her arms around her back in an effort to restrain her or she scratched wildly at his face. But soon they were fighting each other, wrestling on the ground, kicking and scratching at each other as they battled for dominance. They were not pulling their punches, both parties grunting as the took the full impact of the others hits. At some point the battle changed, Cassiopeia tasted the blood in her mouth as she took an elbow to the jaw and his eye was beginning to swell from a well placed punch. She pulled at his shirt, tearing it beyond repair in her haste to get it off, while Caecilius pulled one of her knives out of her boot and used it to slice open her clothes, before resting it carefully against her throat.

She struggled beneath him, her heart thumping and her mind lost in the delightful high of the fight. She bucked wildly when he reached down and stole a kiss from her, his mouth devouring hers and their tongues continued their fight.

Their sex was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Instead of the loving give and take she shared with Charlie, this was angry and wild, like two animals fighting for dominance. They took from each other, each uncaring for the others comfort or happiness. It was selfish, it was demanding, and it was painful. It was also intense, their bodies finding compatibility in the violence, each getting off on the others display of dominance and victory.

She was panting and bruised when they finally finished, covered in fine cuts as she collapsed panting on top of Caecilius, digging her nails into his wiry chest. He softened his arms, pulling her closer to him as he relaxed beneath her, panting as if he had just run a mile, giving a half mad giggle she had only heard after a particularly gruesome fight.

"Bloody hell Lestrange. I knew you were wild," he bared his teeth at her, they were stained red with blood from one of his injuries. "I must say, that was even better than I imagined." he sighed,

She had to agree. She didn't want soft touches and loving words-that was what Charlie had always given her. She didn't want tenderness and that connection to someone's heart. She didn't deserve that, she couldn't handle that level of raw emotion and connection.

She needed violence, she needed anger, and pain. Caecilius evidently was very much the same.

"I know you Jovius, how do I know you are not undercover for the Ministry?" she asked finally, rolling off him to rest beside him, too tired to care about the intimacy they were sharing.

He let out a sharp laugh that ended in a wheeze as one of his injuries was aggravated. "Pay me better than they are and you have my loyalty." He said

"We don't typically pay our recruits Jovius. They swear their loyalty because they believe in the cause. We reward those who do well, and punish those who do not, but they all come because of him." She said, letting him down gently.

There was space for mercenaries, sure. But not on her team. Not officially at least.

"What sort of rewards are we talking?"

She shrugged, "It depends on his favour. Monetary, magical, whatever."

He licked his lips, his eyes shining with greed.

"What are the advantages?" He asked, trying to keep his interest at least a little hidden.

"Freedom to cause chaos and destruction. Freedom to practice forbidden magic. Power as well, power to do just about anything. The price is serving him." She said softly, closing her eyes, her hands finding his as they intertwined.

He thought about it for a while, she could hear the cogs spinning as he weighed the pros and cons.

"Can I meet him?" He asked seriously.

She nodded her head, biting the skin on his chest delicately as she thought, before kissing the mark to soothe it.

"You can, but at that point, backing out might not be an option. You would at the very least become an asset, if not a full member. Are you prepared for that?" she asked.

He nodded, "set up the meeting Lestrange." He said firmly, patting her bottom firmly.

She leaned up to give him one more heated kiss before pulling herself off of him with a wince. "Get dressed Jovius. The sooner we get his blessing, the sooner we can have round two." she said with a smirk, giving him a wink. He grinned at her stupidly, his eyes shining with a dangerous glint as she walked away.

"Oh and Jovius. If you are working for the Ministry, you should know that he will not only kill you, he will make you wish as if you were never born." She said casually, opening up a medicine cabinet and grabbing various ointments for her injuries.

"Good thing i'm not working for them then," he called to her.

"Yeah. Good thing." she muttered lowly, carefully dabbing some dittany on one of the scratches across her body.

Jovius would make a great Death Eater. If he was telling the truth. It was up to the Dark Lord though to decide his fate. She wasn't sure which way she wanted the decision to go.

And ultimately it wasn't up to her anyways. The man had chosen his fate, she was merely there to deliver it.

"Come on, let's go meet your new master." she called, watching him in amusement as he winced while pulling on the last of his robes. They both looked, and smelled like sex. Perhaps it wasn't the most appropriate style when visiting the Dark Lord. But then, she really did not give a damn.

He would know anyways.

Jovius gave her a tight smirk, holding it arm out for her to take, "after you m'lady" he said in his best posh voice.

She rolled her eyes and disapparated, with him in tow.

a/n _I know it's been a few weeks, I have truthfully been very busy. Thanks for the few new followers and the favourites, as ever reviews help fuel the inspiration and make me feel less like im wiritng out into the void. Every time we visit cassiopeia she is slipping further and further away. He support system is in tatters and she is very close to being on her own. We spent a lot of time of the summer if 1996, things will go faster through the year and into 1997._

 _Thanks for reaching, any and all feedback is hugely appreciated !_

 _tibys_


	18. Chapter 18: The Fall of the Phoenix

Cassiopeia felt reckless introducing someone like Caecilius to the Dark Lord but she figured he would be recruited at some point. Especially if he was so bold to seek her out to begin with. At least this way she got the credit for him and hopefully that came with oversight. She was after all, his left hand and his appointed trainer for all new recruits.

It was impulsive, inviting him over and fucking him. Just as it was impulsive to bring him immediately to the Dark Lord after that activity without showering or doing much to put herself together. She felt almost dizzy from the day, her head full, her heart beating unusually fast and her temper simmering just below the surface. In short, Cassiopeia was not OK. She should have waited, regained her centre before initiating this contact.

But now she was at the door of the office he had commandeered, staring at the dark expanse of wood, her heart thumping in her ears. She had left Caecilius in the drawing room and ordered a house elf to watch him. He was not to leave that room unaccompanied no matter what.

He wasn't one of them yet, and the lestranges roamed these halls freely. He roamed these halls freely

She gulped. There was no turning back now. She wondered briefly if she should have summoned him, called to him with her mark. But no, that was for emergencies, for when he was needed or if he was expecting them.

Maybe he wasn't even in? He was known to disappear for days on end with no word. Perhaps she should wait until the next meeting. Bring it up casually.

And then she felt him, he was in her mind first, filling her being with his presence and power and she hated that she relaxed just a little as he overwhelmed her. It was Pavlovian and embarrassing. It was also wonderful to feel her muscles relax for the first time in days.

She knocked on the door.

 _Enter._

She heard it in her mind more than her ears, the voice a whisper, soft and seductive as it worked it's way through her head and down her spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He was sitting at his desk, looking over a few papers that were scattered about. Profiles on enemies she realised, recognising some of the files.

He leaned back in his chair, tenting his fingers as he examined her standing before him.

"What a wonderful surprise Little Lestrange. I do believe this is the first time you have sought me out. Normally I have to initiate our little trysts."

She hated the flush that came over her as he said it. The way he said made their meetings sound much more salacious than they actually were. It made them sound intimate.

But then, wasn't it intimate? When they were together alone? He would overwhelm her both body and mind usually, wrapping his arms around her as he helped her spell casting, whisper words words lowly in her ear, plant thoughts in her mind.

She shook her head slightly to stop her mind from going down further into that particular rabbit hole of nightmares. She wasn't sexual in her relationship with him, their bonding was somehow even closer than that.

He bared his teeth at her, a grotesque facsimile of a grin, as he watched her thoughts flit across her mind.

"Delightful as this is Lestrange, you must have a reason for being here. Or is it you missed my company?" He asked

She nodded, trying swaying slightly as her thoughts raced and her day caught up for her.

"Or perhaps it is comfort you are after? I see you have already indulged in one form but are still left craving. Shall we go cause some havoc together little one? Find some hapless muggle that we could torture together? Perhaps we could craft a curse? I am feeling rather generous." He smirked.

She hated that a small part of her wanted to go with him, to get lost in his presence, his power, and the magic. He was intoxicating with his presence.

But no. Not today.

"I brought someone for you My Lord." She said, bowing her head and clasping her hands together in front of her, frowning as she saw the tremble in them.

His smirk dropped slightly almost in disappointment, his eyes sharpening in her.

"Oh yes.. a mercenary. Do you trust him Lestrange?" He asked, leaning back in his chair with a soft sigh.

It seemed she was not the only one affected by his offer of revelry.

She shrugged, "I don't think I trust anyone my Lord. Not anymore. He is greedy, we will have his loyalty so long as we can pay him in either gold or havoc. Both things we have a surplus of currently." She said.

He nodded slowly, his eyes focussing past her as he thought.

"How do you know him?" He asked.

She fidgeted, "we have worked together. In the field and on spells. He is an agent for the Ministry currently. Intelligence."

"Show me." He commanded, his eyes shooting to hers.

And she did, memories of Caecilius, from when they were first introduced in Yugoslavia to their meeting in the pub earlier that day. He was gentle at first, moving around her memories like a ghost, barely present.

She tried to stop the memories at the pub, not to show him their more carnal activities. If she had been in a better state of mind she would have probably succeeded. She didn't know what tipped him off to her attempt at concealment but she felt his flash of irritation and his power surge through her mind with a sharp lance of pain that made her stumble backwards with a cry.

He tore into her mind and forced himself into her recent memory of Caecilius, observing in excruciating and embarrassing detail their personal activities just before this meeting.

She gasped when he pulled out of her head, falling forward to her knees, clutching her head as she cried in pain. She could feel her head was her own once more but his absence left a gaping hole in her mind that throbbed with pain. He had not been gentle in pulling that memory out of her and now she was suffering the consequences.

She flinched when she felt his cold fingers around hers, finding herself tensing for the first time in his presence in a while. He had hurt her. The Dark Lord hadn't hurt her physically since their very first meeting after his return.

"Shh Lestrange, look at me," his voice was low as he gently helped her stand up.

She shut her eyes tighter, the pain still fresh in her eyes. She didn't want to look at him.

" _Look. At. Me._ " He hissed, his voice hard. This was a command, not a request.

She did.

He was in her mind again, overwhelming and gentle. He stepped closer to her, so close that their bodies brushed against each other with every breath. He rested his forehead against hers and his presence grew until she had difficulty seeing or feeling anything beyond him, the cold of his skin, icy against hers, his hands cradling her face, cool breath ghosting across her face. Gone was Caecilius, the Weasleys slight, even the war. He was her world, her existence, his body against hers, his mind overpowering hers. She felt connected to him, closer to him than she had ever felt with another human being. She was an extension of him, a part of his reality, and in that moment she would do anything for him.

Her own thoughts were silent, calmned by his presence. Why had she refused to look at him before? She couldn't remember. Had she been in pain? The memory of that was gone.

She was in heaven, completely at peace, overwhelmed and satisfied. She felt full, complete, and happy. For the first time in her life, she felt content. Happy even. She wanted to stay like this forever- to get lost in this delightful high.

And then he was gone, leaving her gasping, her hands reaching out to clutch his, her grip iron, holding his hands fast against her face.

She fell forward into him, needing him, needing more. She felt empty, hollow, and desperate for just a fraction of the bliss he had given her.

The Dark lord laughed. Actually laughed as he pulled her closer to him, Enjoying the way her hands clutched at his robes, as she pushed herself closer to him, her face against his neck as she gasped in shock as he left her mind.

He put one hand behind her head, pulling her tighter against him, enjoying the feel of her panting breath against his skin, her squirming body against his, and his other arm wrapped around her waist, his fingers playing across her hip, delicately rubbing a piece of exposed skin

Cassiopeia didn't know how long they stayed like that, wrapped in his arms but she did know with a sinking certainty that the Weasleys were right not to trust her. She didn't trust herself in his presence. She didn't know when it happened or even how, but he had done something to her, something that turned her into a pathetic, needy mess around him

She was worse than her parents, who worshipped him like a god. She was closer to him than her mother, and she was fairly certain her mother fulfilled his human, carnal needs. Those two were as close as two human beings could physically be.

But she shared something different. It was closer than the intimacy shared by sex. It was more complicated than carnality and physicality. He was a part of her soul, an all consuming drug that she craved. He gave her fulfilment and satisfaction to an extent she didn't believe was possible before now.

She was shaking and blushing as she came down off their connection. Her mind raced as she processed these new revelations.

The Dark Lord for his part was still, almost languid, like a snake basking happily in the heat of a stone.

When she finally pulled away he let go of her reluctantly with a satisfied sigh, his body loose and relaxed in contrast to her horrified tension. "Oh Lestrange. What would life be without you pet." He examined her lazily, a knowing gleam in his eye.

She blushed even further, a part of her already plotting how she could feel that way once more.

"What would this world be without Lestranges?" He amended, finally letting go of her fully.

"Come. Let's see what you've brought me." He held out his arm to her, keen eyes noticing the wobble in her legs with amusement.

She went ahead of him, scurrying away, eager to be away from him for the moment.

Caecilius was reclining in a chair looking bored as he flipped through a book. He tossed it aside with a wide grin when she entered however. "You look like you've run a marathon darling," he remarked, looking at her curiously.

She ignored his comment, coming closer to him—"This is your last chance Jovius. Are you sure?"

His grin dipped a little at the edges before standing up. "I'm sure." He said.

She stared at Jovius as she felt the Dark Lord entering the room.

His grin fell and he became unusually serious and a shade paler.

Cassiopeia bowed her head to him and took a position against the wall, leaning casually as she watched the scene. He hadn't ordered her to leave so she would stay until he said otherwise.

He ignored her entirely, walking in circles around Jovius who stood tall in the face of the scrutiny.

"Caecilius Jovius," He hissed finally, "an occlumens." He said, stopping in front of him.

Her eyebrows raised, the thought hadn't even occurred to her that he would be.

"My Lord," He inclined his head, a mere fraction of what his followers do.

Cassiopeia watched, feeling a little detached from the proceedings as the Dark Lord interrogated him. Jovius was walking a thin line between life and death, arguably this moment represented the most dangerous thing he has ever done.

Caecilius wanted money and power, but the thing he really lived for-what he craved more than anything else in the world-was a fight. Something that they could easily give him. The Dark Lord asked what he fought for and Cassiopeia almost snorted.

Caecilius wasn't a man motivated by something so trite as ideals. He was a junkie, chasing a high and selling his services to attain that high.

"And what can you offer me?" The Dark Lord asked curiously, his eyes shining.

"Intelligence. I have worked for the ministry in intelligence for over a decade. I know all the shadowy workings of this government, this country and a great deal about the international confederation. I can give you all of that and more." His smirk was sly as he spoke. Caecilius could offer them a great deal and at a seemingly low cost.

The Dark Lord gave him the good news-they could teach him spells of such power that he could not have ever imagined. They could give him chaos and anarchy, and there were often monetary incentives in their ranks. All at the price of lifelong loyalty and death upon betrayal. When asked if he was prepared to accept their terms he paused.

Caecilius licked his lips, understanding the importance of his next words, glancing at Cassiopeia against the wall briefly before nodding, first slowly then with more vigour. "I do. My lord." He bowed his head, deeper this time.

The Dark Lord nodded, baring his teeth in a cruel smile.

"Lets see what you can do," he said, holding his arm out to beckon Cassiopeia, waving his wand lazily so all the furniture flew against the wall. She shoved off the wall and obediently went to him.

"You are _intimately_ acquainted with my little Lestrange here. She tells me you two have history. Lestrange is one of my top lieutenants, my left hand, and an architect of my army. You've sampled her sweeter side. Now I want you to taste her sharper side. Show me your aptitude for violence Jovius- fight her."

She huffed a little. It was inevitable that they would fight. She fought every new recruit to get an idea of what she was working with. But she had fought Jovius before, and he has bested her magically.

"And if I win?" Jovius asked, a cocky grin growing on his face.

The Dark lord smirked as she scowled. "Then you take her place and learn from me directly." He drawled.

Her stomach flipped unpleasantly as she heard his ultimatum. She had to win.

The Dark Lord tightened his grip on her shoulder, his bony fingers digging into her shoulder before he leaned down to whisper in her ear "Relax, little one. Feel your anger, all of your unpleasant and confusing feelings. Unleash that frustration onto him"

She closed her eyes as she shivered from his breath so close to her face. It had been a long day, full of unpleasant and alarming incidents. She was off balance, reeling from the Weasleys hatred, whatever she had shared with her master earlier, and her coupling with Caecilius, a man she now had to fight.

It was not hard for her to find her anger, she felt her emotions rage-icy as she prepared herself to fight. Her limbs going cold and her brain centred in on the one thing that mattered. Jovius. She was ready.

"I won't be going easy on you!" Caecilius called, a large grin dominating his face. Her face didn't even twitch in response to his mocking. She was centred in on him, her eyes sharp.

His smirk dropped a little as he readied himself.

He got a few good hits in initially, a fact that spurred him on and gave him a false sense of confidence. Caecilius was a talented wizard, but he wasn't used to fighting people on his level, meaning his endurance was lacking. He usually won fights in the first few minutes, with an overwhelming opening salvo.

Cassiopeia on the other hand trained against the Lestranges, and with the Dark Lord himself. She was used to being outmatched and outnumbered and had fought duels that lasted into the half hour before conceding. Endurance came in spades in her position.

Her head thrummed with energy as she felt the buzzing in her blood and the racing of her heart. She felt full and fuzzy, overwhelmed with the magic, the curses flying, her mind sharpened and focused on the task before her. It took four minutes for Caecilius's weariness to kick in, and that was when she struck, feeling fresh as the fight started.

In the end she was disappointed by his fall. Once the exhaustion kicked in he became clumsy and desperate. She'd have to work with him in that- endurance was important and often overlooked.

Endurance training had been her hardest sell to her new recruits- often common thugs who used magic and intimidation to gain superficial power. Introducing a regiment that included very muggle fitness ideas of running, high intensity training, and footwork exercises were sneered at and derided.

But they couldn't deny, she was all the better for it, outlasting even the most dedicated of Death Eaters.

Caecilius would benefit himself- she would see to that. Just as she would watch him closely.

She wiped the sweat off her brow and took a step back from the man who was gasping for breath on his knees before her.

He wasn't a Death Eater yet. There was more to joining than fighting her, but he was on his way and she had done her part. She barely paid attention as the Dark lord gave him his next task— a meeting in front of his inner circle where he would prove himself. Her mind was still fuzzy, cloudy from the day and the exertion.

She almost missed the Dark Lords dismissal so lost was she in her own thoughts. She nodded curtly, quickly making her way home where she fell into her bed still heavily scented with sex and fell right to sleep immediately and deeply.

Xxx

Caecilius was a brilliant Death Eater and it took only a few short months for him to climb the ranks until he was her number two on her personal task force. He would have his own squad in the year if he kept up the way he was, though Cassiopeia fought against that-wanting to keep him close where she could watch him.

The two became closer, fucking sometimes, but mostly fighting, training as both tried to best the other in physical and magical fights. The Dark Lord's ultimatum hung over her- anyone who could best her, would take her place. Few tried, and she reckoned only her mother could beat her in a straight duel, not that Bellatrix was interested in her job. The strangest part of the situation however was her mother, who heartily approved of Jovius, and who often took it on herself to assist in his training. She didn't like the knowing looks she gave the two, and the sly smirks she shot Cassiopeia whenever Caecilius removed his shirt after a particularly hard training session.

It was because of her mother he had been appointed to her task force, she had suggested it during a meeting of the inner circle, her smile dangerous and sharp, her eyes glinting as she plotted something. Cassiopeia was too tired however to look into it further. Her mother was going to do what she was going to do. No use trying to guess the motives of a mad woman.

Besides, there was more to her mother that concerned her than her match making between Jovius and Cassiopeia-she was up to something, plotting, occasionally with her Aunt Narcissa, and sometimes with Fenrir Greyback. She watched them closely, but they still managed to sneak away, to do god knows what on their missions.

Cassiopeia didn't know what project her mother was working in and though she was worried she didn't have time to worry about her mother.

Bellatrix would let her in when she thought it was important. Cassiopeia had to worry about the new recruits, mitigating damages from attacks and working around some of the more worrying plans of the Dark Lord.

He had Caecilius compiling names of those who would oppose them in the Ministry and known muggle borns. Cassiopeia memorised as much of the list as she could, and passed them onto Dora. Right now it was just a list- they were taking no action. Yet.

Ted Tonks was one of the first on the list, added gleefully by Bellatrix. Dora joined it soon after.

Dora has laughed when she was told about the list, pleased she had been singled out as an enemy. Cassiopeia was not as amused.

It was February when she noticed something different about Dora. She was lighter, happier and relaxed. It was remarkable given the war they were in.

"He's finally come to his senses, a little at least" she said with a small grin. "Remus. We're together now. He is still a little jumpy at the idea, but we are giving it a go, slowly. I'm wearing him down."

Cassiopeia was pleased for them if a little nervous. Dora deserved happiness and Lupin made her happy. She just wished the circumstances were different. That the world was different.

She met the Order a few times on the battlefield. They conducted raids and the Order would disrupt them before running when the tide turned— either towards the Death Eaters or until the Ministry responded.

She grabbed Lupin during one of those battles, her irritation with the man growing because it had been so easy to get the drop on him and isolate him from the others.

She pushed the struggling man down an alleyway, stunning his legs and silencing the area around them so they couldn't be overheard. She fisted her hand in his robes and shoved him against the coarse brick wall.

Lupin looked defiant as he gazed into her mask fearlessly, accepting his fate without bowing. She scoffed, removing her mask. Bloody Gryffindors.

His eyes hardened when he saw it was her. Good.

"You are an easy man to capture Lupin. That is not good." She growled.

He remained silent, staring angrily at her.

"You need to remain vigilant and not split from your groups. All of you lot need better formations and situational awareness. It should not be so easy to isolate you. If I had half a mind I could've wiped out half the Order tonight." She ran her hand through her hair in frustration. Why weren't they training?

The enemy was. And it was paying off.

"What do you care? Isn't that what your master wants?" Lupin spat out at her, his face turning red.

She shrugged, "course he does but I'm inclined to take my sweet time. No sense in outshining all of his other Death Eaters needlessly. I am already his favourite." She said smoothly, glaring at him.

"No. I don't think I'm going to hurt you today Lupin. I wanted to have a little chat." She said, her tone deceptively light.

He glared at her, uncertainty entering his eyes as he looked at her closely. "About what?" He finally asked.

"My sister and your relationship with her," she said, jabbing her finger sharply into his chest.

"Wait—What?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"Dora is bloody crazy about you so you better not bollocks it up. She deserves happiness and though I personally think she could do better, she seems set on you. If I hear of you being an insensitive git, I will personally see that you pay. If you hurt her, I will hurt you. So help me Merlin Lupin you're on thin ice, do you understand?" She poked him harder and harder with each sentence until he was wincing slightly.

"You can't be serious," he asked weakly, his head spinning from the situation. He thought he was going to be killed and instead he was being threatened about his relationships?

"This whole situation is ridiculous. You're right, she could do better, i've been trying to tell her. I am too old, too poor, and too dangerous for her. She won't see reason." he sighed.

"Dora is a grown woman who is strong and independent. I may not like you, but she does. You are going to give her a chance, you are going to give this relationship a chance, and you are not going to sabotage it. Let her come to those conclusions herself-and don't tell her what to think." Cassiopeia flushed in her indignation.

"I am just trying to do what is best for her. I do care for her, and I want to protect her." Lupin said quietly, his face very serious as he looked at her.

Cassiopeia bared her teeth into a snarl, her hands twisting in his robes as she pulled him away from the wall and slammed him against it with all her strength.

She heard the satisfying 'oof' as the wind was knocked solidly out of him.

"You can fuck right off with that rubbish. Let her decide what is best for you. And don't you dare hurt her. Do we have an understanding? You hurt Dora, I hurt you. You are hurting Dora with this bullshite undefined relationship. If this continues-next time I won't be so kind."

The man nodded, alarm and confusion shining in his eyes as she put her mask back in place and apparated away.

Dora was not happy with her when she found out. It had been a secret- their communication. Something that was between them and Dumbledore. Now Lupin knew they still talked at least a little. He didn't know she was an informant- she had managed to keep that a secret. But he knew they were friendly despite everything. Naturally he heartily disapproved. She couldn't be arsed to care about his opinion.

It was in April that a Hogwarts student was cursed. So far Hogwarts and Hogsmeade has been on their radar but relatively unscathed. The girl was admitted to hospital. Cassiopeia read the news grimly, her mouth set in a thin line.

This had not been them. No Death Eater under her control had touched a student. It wasn't time for that yet.

Meaning this must have been Draco. The news was thin on the ground about her exact curse or the suspected object. She did know her previous colleague Lionel, and perhaps Theo were looking after her in St Mungos.

She waited for their call, wondering if they would ask for a consultation despite her current retired status.

They never did. It appeared her bridges in St Mungos were truly burned. She huffed, throwing the paper aside as she reclined in her chair with a frown.

What had Draco been thinking? It was reckless and careless. He must've been after Dumbledore but thinking the man would touch a cursed object (the news hadn't said what the object was), was a ridiculous thought. He was one of the greatest wizards alive and he was conscious of the danger against him. It wouldn't be so easy.

Bellatrix was away more and more. A surprising feat for someone who was one of the most wanted women in Great Britain.

Her father and uncle did not follow her mother's lead and more and more did she run into them around the manor, lazing about and day drinking. It was pathetic, Rabastan's mind had cracked differently than her parents. He disassociated- often in inopportune times— and fell into a manic state that was difficult to control. She refused to send him on missions- he was a liability. So he remained at the manor- useless.

Her father became obsessive- more so than he had been in the past. He obsessed over the Dark Lord, over serving him with every breath. And his obsession manifested in extreme jealousy and hostility towards her. He did not believe she was good enough for the Dark Lord and took it into his own hands to 'educate' her of her position. He hadn't outright challenged her to a duel, not yet, but she could sense it coming.

She was always on guard of her father, careful around him and vigilant for ruthless attacks.

Her life became violence as she duelled new recruits daily- sharpening them for battle and conflict. She plotted and planned, and snuck away for the briefest moments of respite to confer with her solicitor or sister.

Lima got on their list in May. Muggle born and offensive for her law practices. Cassiopeia begged her to leave, to go to Calais where she had purchased her a house. She refused- arguing that it wasn't time. They weren't acting on the list yet.

Ted was equally stubborn, refusing to run. Putting his faith in a ministry that was barely holding itself together. Cassiopeia couldn't risk talking to them directly, but she could tell even Dora was beginning to feel the frustration.

She and Snape rarely spoke. She knew he was still involved with the Order, but she did not know if Dumbledore confided in him about her relationship with Dora. She was never friendly with Snape, her demeanor towards him was civil at best knowing her mother hated him fiercely. She saw no reason to seek him out, and she felt that if he needed to know about her and Dora, that Dumbledore would tell him. He had his roles to play and she had hers. Their roles rarely coincided outside of meetings of the inner circle-meetings he was absent at most of the time due to his school responsibilities.

It was June when her mark burned, interrupting her planned quiet evening. She frowned, staring as her red mark turned an inky black. They had nothing planned tonight, not that she was aware of. She grabbed her robes and her mask, apparating to the Malfoy Manor where she was met with her mother, who gleefully pulled her into a tight hug.

"Dumbledore is dead." she whispered, her voice awestruck in rapture at the good news.

She could hear celebrations from the next room, rowdy cheers falling out of the door, spilling into the hallway.

"Dumbledore-how?" was all she could ask, her heart freezing and her body going numb. It couldn't be true, she refused to believe it was true. "Draco?" she asked, clutching at her mother's robes.

Bellatrix's face soured slightly, "Snape stole Draco's victory from him in the end. But it was his plan, he got them into Hogwarts, he found a way, right under that filthy blood traitors nose. They left quite a mess-alas, I-we-were not permitted to go. He had to do this on his own. Draco had disarmed him-Dumbledore was at his mercy before Snape swooped in-overgrown bat that he is." She sighed, a little melancholy at missing the fun.

"But you did help him didn't you, that's where you've been disappearing to." Cassioepia said, still holding her mums hand tightly.

Bellatrix looked up at her through heavily hooded eyes, a sly smile growing on her face as she winked. It was all the confirmation that she would get from the woman.

"Where is Draco?" she asked her mother, who was smiling broadly and accepting a drink from a nearby Death Eater as they entered into the dining room. There was a feast laid out in front of them, freshly roasted meats and vegetables interspersed with cakes and sweets alike. It was almost as lavish as a Hogwarts feast.

"He's off with Cissy. Cassie, you must try this-" Bellatrix grabbed a piece of roasted meat with her fingers, shoving bits of it into her mouth as she turned her shining eyes on her daughter.

She felt ill, her stomach turning as she looked at the meat her mother was offering her, "er- no thanks mum. Like yesterday, I am still a vegetarian." She mumbled, turning away to look at the crowd. Snape was there, in the centre of a group of drunk men, looking serious and dour as ever.

She needed to leave. It was too much, it was becoming a little too overwhelming.

Snape kill Dumbledore?

Snape had been the one to recruit her, he had been the one to show her she could be more than a pawn. He had helped her, always, when she needed it. Even if she didn't deserve it, he had always tried to help-in his shitty snarky way.

And what did it mean, where were Snape's loyalties? She had seen him try to heal the curse on his hand, she had seen his desperation and his anger. Snape cared for that man, and he had killed him.

She heard Dumbledore begged for his life.

There was a battle, she heard one of the Death Eaters who had been present tell the story. The Order had been there. They didn't know if there were any casualties.

They blew up Hagird's hut on the way out, they destroyed the castle as much as they could. They cast the Dark Mark over the school-showing that nowhere was safe.

What did this mean for the Order? Dumbledore was the glue that held them together, he was their leader, there was no one who could take his place. Would they fall apart? The last bastion of defense against the Dark Lord was very close to falling into shambles.

She ducked out of the celebration early, her mind reeling and she felt for the first time that her occlumency might fail if she were to run into the Dark Lord. She wasn't certain she could hide her despair and horror at the events.

And worst of all, she didn't know. She had never suspected Draco would succeed. He had never once reached out to her for help, Narcissa never asked, and she had been powerless to intervene. Draco was a clever lad, but he was not a killer. She was a little glad that at least he hadn't gone all the way, that he merely disarmed one of the most powerful men in the world, instead of slaying him in cold blood.

Dumbledore was dead.

She went to her old flat in Bristol, searching for comfort in the familiar surroundings from a life less complicated.

They were going to win. She felt with certainty and dread. The Dark Lord was going to win. Dumbledore was an icon for hope and resistance, and now he was gone. It wouldn't be long until the ministry fell, people who gained strength and courage from a man like Dumbledore would now cower before them. It was only a matter of time before the dominos fell.

And what an awful world it would be, under the Dark Lords rule. Muggleborns would be persecuted relentlessly, slain for their birth. Half Bloods would be second class citizens. He had allies around europe, vampires, werewolves, trolls, even some of the goblins. They would gain more power, not enough to threaten wizards, but enough to threaten muggles.

She could try to help, and she would if she could. She could look the other way, be a little careless in her searches. She could build in glaring flaws into her curses and she could control those of the most powerful among them. But she was alone and by herself. She couldn't trust even Snape.

It was time for Ted and Lima to go into hiding. She had to protect them, they had to be safe. It was the least she could do with her power.

She started when she heard the door open quietly, meeting the tear stained face of her sister. It was only then that Cassiopeia realised she had been crying as well.

"Did you know?" Dora asked, hovering near the door, unwilling to come any further.

Cassiopeia shook her head, feeling the grief and fear rise in her chest until it was almost choking her. "I had no idea. It is as much of a shock to me as it is you. You have to believe me."

"Did you know about Snape?" she asked, taking a step in but still looking at her warily.

Snape-he knew about the apartment. He had acted as her guarantor when she got it. He recruited her in these very chairs.

She shook her head, "I am as shocked as you Dora. Please, you have to believe me." She begged.

She couldn't believe Snape would suspect their use of this flat, and she refused to believe he would turn her in if he did. He had made a promise to her, what seemed like years ago, that he was on her side. She had to believe him even if she didn't trust him in all things.

It was enough for Dora who collapsed in her sisters arms, exhaustion and grief winning out.

"You're hurt." Cassiopeia said weakly, examining the girl next to her.

She had been there, she had tried to protect the castle and failed. Dora cried harder, her hair a mousy brown as she grieved. Cassiopeia had never been a healer, despite Theo's attempts at training, the best she could do was offer comfort.

Dumbledore was dead and the world was a darker place for it.

 _a/n and the war is truly on us (and the end of this story is in sight!) Sorry for the long time before updates. I am slowly re reading the books, and life is always busier in the summer where I often dont have much time to write. Bellatrix was not at the battle of the astronomy tower in the books. I actually wrote two versions of this, one where she and Cassiopeia went to Hogwarts that night, and this one. I decided on this one as I am trying to stick to the books more than the movie. I think when this is all finished I'll publish all of the alternate timeline stuff- and some more things I wrote last year that were supposed to happen around this time of the story, but got missed when I was actually writing it. Including a chapter on Glynn Gambol that really should've gone up in her early Death Eater days. Too late now to add it in but as an extras I probably will._

 _I would love some thoughts on Cassiopeias and Voldemorts relationship and connection. It's a truly twisted thing, a chasm of childhood trauma and some very clever conditioning on the Dark Lord's part. Also what do people think about Jovius? Or Dora and Cassiopeia?_

 _Reviews are much love and appreciated, I personally love what peoples thoughts are and their reactions -good or bad- to the story. We are at the end of the sixth book, dont worry- I havent forgotten about Charlie or any of the other characters we've met through the years._


	19. Chapter 19: A New World

It was a brand new world and it was only a matter of time until the Dark Lord ruled it.

Cassiopeia took a central role, steeling herself for the new reality. She had tried to help, but the Order was all but finished without Dumbledore. It was unfortunate but they lost.

They celebrated their momentum with a prison break— freeing those Death Eaters who had been caught in the Department of Mysteries along with a few new recruits.

She had been the mastermind behind that plan and she executed it with only her small team of mainly half blooded psychopaths. She collected the bloodthirsty and the clever- she watched them and muzzled them as best as she could.

Caecilius has made himself indispensable as they acted on his intelligence. The ministry officials were dropping like flies, either she made them disappear or someone put them under their influence.

Things were heating up and He was already making plans for the new order.

Killing Dumbledore had been a significant blow to the resistance- both to their hope and to their organisation. Dumbledore's legacy was one of staunch opposition to darkness and an everlasting faith in the power of love.

Though judging from the news reports of some groundbreaking investigations— even that might be a lie.

Cassiopeia cared little for the gossip around Dumbledore but it was hard to avoid. The Death Eaters mumbled between each other, whispering bawdy details. Even her mother got involved, cackling as she told stories about Rita Skeeter's ability to uncover both the truth and tell it in such a salacious way.

They never spoke about it around the Dark Lord of course, but Bellatrix was quite amused by her former classmates latest endeavour. She rolled her eyes as she reclined on a couch with her mother, a rare moment of affection as she rested her head in the feasome woman's lap, Bellatrix's hand playing delicately through her curls as she read.

Cassiopeia basked in her mother's attention, feeling warm and relaxed when her hands offered comfort instead of punishment. She understood she should hate the woman and all she represented, and most of the time she did.

But it was also nice to feel loved. To be comforted. It was a rare experience. Especially in these times. Cassiopeia was rarely allowed to relax, to let her guard down just a little bit. She was in a den of vipers and she had to be stronger than all of them if she wanted to keep her position. And with her father's brand of insanity, she was rarely safe from attacks. The only time she was safe from his attempts on her life was when she was around Bellatrix and the Dark Lord. She didn't trust herself around the Dark Lord, so she jumped at the chance for Bella's love and safety when it was offered. It was only last week her father had broken into her house, despite its apparent suveillance by Aurors, to try and murder her in her sleep.

Bellatrix was not always so loving— she demanded perfection in every aspect of her life. And when Cassiopeia showed she was inevitably imperfect— she was punished.

Cassiopeia was far from perfect. She botched a few operations— a few on purpose and a few purely by accident and misfortune.

Some people who he wanted would get away. And some would die or crack before giving any useful information. He was mostly angry at her inability to strike any more real blows to the Order of the Phoenix and her failure to find intelligence on Potter.

She almost scowled at the thought of Harry Potter. He was the last hope of the resistance and the Dark Lord's obsession. He wanted her to find out everything about him, to monitor him and to capture him but it was an impossible task even if she put her heart into it.

And he let her know, through Bellatrix, his displeasure. But tonight he had been pleased with her. And when he was pleased with her, Bellatrix was- hence the situation she found herself in presently, preening under the comfort of her mother's hand.

"Charity Burbage," Bellatrix mused, flipping the book shut, soothing a particularly snarled curl on her daughters head. "How clever of you Cassie." She smirked, giving her a gentle squeeze. "My clever daughter," she hummed, letting her head fall back into the couch.

Cassiopeia smiled, leaning into her mother's touch desperately, shamelessly. "I learned from the best." She said.

It was the right thing to say as she smirked indulgently down at her daughter. "Soon me, you, and Cissy will be able to go out and walk free in the world. We can go shopping, try those new restaurants your aunt is always on about. Soon the world will be ours Cassie." She sighed once more.

"Are you staying here tonight darling?" She asked. She hadn't planned on it but spending more time with her mother when she was feeling motherly was a rare opportunity. And one that guaranteed no assasination attempts through the night.

Charity had been an easy target. She was recovering from a cocked up assassination that was barely redeemed by another imperiused ministry worker when she saw the Daily Prophet article. How foolish was she to write openly about muggle loving when her very boss had just been murdered at her place of work.

It was only a matter of time really. She was sorry for the fear she felt in her final moments but at least she was dead when he fed her to Nagini. That was not always the case.

She felt a distant feeling of horror and disgust as she examined herself every day. The longer she spent in their company the further away she felt from her true self and emotions. She was muting herself, numbing herself to horrors of her reality.

She felt her mind splintering under the strain and she began to welcome the numbness that allowed her to burrow her old emotions and thoughts in the face of such crimes. This environment was no place for her empathy to flourish, she had to be hard, and she had to be strong if she was going to survive. She couldn't save everyone, but she could ensure they died quickly.

She hadn't seen her sister in months. Not since that day in May when Dumbledore died. Her old flat was empty and abandoned- the only evidence of anyone coming and going was her intelligence letters, or the burned ashes of them. Dora was still coming, but never when Cassiopeia was there.

She still left the notes whenever it was possible but those opportunities were rare. She was a busy woman- preparing her latest task.

Once the ministry was theirs, he had ordered her to create an official entity whose aim was to enforce his will. They were going to destroy the auror office and replace it with his own secret police. They were going to root out dissidents, rebels and eventually fugitives. Their job was to instill fear and obedience- to destroy his enemies publicly and officially.

The Catchers is what he called them- their leader was not one for clever naming she mused. But he didn't have to hide behind clever names, not when he could cause such destruction and inspire fear. The Catchers would be powerful and she was their leader and their architect. Soon Cassiopeia would find herself out in the public eye, an employee of the new ministry- a puppet government, doing his will.

XX

It was July when she received some communication from her sister, it was an invitation that was left at her old flat addressed to a Miss Mildred Smith. She frowned as she looked at the letter, dropping her own snippets of intelligence off on the table before examining it closely.

It was a handsome letter in thick linen paper, the writing was showy and formal- a highly unlikely letter.

After examining it thoroughly for hidden magics she opened it, completely bewildered as to who would have left it. Lima, Dora and Snape were the only people who knew about her flat- she was the building owner now so her old landlord would not be dropping off letters.

She sighed and sat down heavily when she opened it. It was a wedding invitation. A wedding that was in three days to join together Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks.

She felt conflicted- happy for her sister that she was marrying and in love but she wished this wedding was taking place in different circumstances. Dora deserved a big party, she deserved all the planning that went in to a wedding. Cake tasting, dress shopping, hen parties. Instead she was having a low key, quiet ceremony in the middle of a war.

A ceremony that she couldn't realistically attend as herself. The letter was addressed to Mildred Smith- Dora wanted her there, but she knew she couldn't be there as her sister. She had to come as a stranger.

She just hoped Dora had a chance in the future to have a big wedding, to celebrate properly, but she understood that she was seizing her happiness and holding on to those she held dear.

Cassiopeia sniffed loudly, clearing her throat as she got control of her emotions. Lupin better go through with it, and he better not hurt Dora. Because if he did, he could only hope she would kill him quickly.

She circled the correct rsvp information and left it there in the pile of her other intelligence. Cassiopeia was building curses for the Death Eaters. Somebody had to know how to unravel them. She just hoped Dora could give it to someone who could understand her spell diagrams.

Cassiopeia left the flat, her head full of schemes to get to her sister's wedding and she already had a good idea of how to start.

Xxx

It was the day before the wedding and Cassiopeia was out in the wizarding world running errands. She had to drop a few fresh curses objects off in Knockturn Alley at Borgin and Burkes and she had to do some light intimidation to another store owner who was on the fence about their loyalties. Following that she was going into the muggle world, back to Bristol to get her hair cut and to initiate her plan to make it to Dora's wedding.

The first part was easy, it was the second- most crucial- part that worried her.

She did her business quickly in Diagon alley and was relieved to sit in the familiar, run down chair of an old friends shop in Bristol.

"Fucks sake Mildred- who the hell did this?" The heavily tattooed woman complained only half serious. Cassiopeia had been cutting her own hair, shaving it with only half a care-wanting to keep it short and in control. Apparently she hadn't been paying too much attention to the details as her friend complained.

"Your line is all fucked up," she muttered.

Cassiopeia shrugged, shooting her old friend a small, guilty smile. "I tend to do it myself in the mirror. I don't have time anymore to come by regularly Lucas." She sighed looking at her old friend.

The woman was covered in bright tattoos, from the tips of her fingers to the top of her neck and climbing to her face. Her face that was silvery with piercings, some conventional albeit numerous such as her nose and others less so, with a few in her eyebrows and dimples. Her hair was a white blonde and carefully styled, a shaggy mullet with both sides shaved.

Cassiopeia had known the woman since she was 15 and had run away from home. She had met Lucas when she had been sick from withdrawals and likely pneumonia, sleeping rough and starving. She joined her and a few other squatters— punks the lot of them.

A lot had changed over the years— Cassiopeia purchased their squats as they were threatened by the council and turned it into an art collective where all members were part owners. It was a charity now, helping others in the community who had nowhere else to go.

Lucas herself ran a rather successful hair salon, catering for the middle class art students who paid too much money to be hip and authentic and the homeless who paid nothing and were given a hot drink and a shave, on the house, always.

Not that Lucas knew the girl sitting in front of her funded the project. She didn't even know her real name. "Big date then Mildred?" The girl teased as she got to work. She shrugged and smiled, neither confirming nor denying anything.

For a little while she pretended the war wasn't happening and that she was a normal muggle with no worries and no cares in the world. It was a nice fantasy.

Far more pleasant than her next visit would be. She paid her friend, confounding her lightly to accept a larger sum than they agreed on and she secured what she had really been there for. After saying her goodbyes, she mentally prepared herself for her next destination of the day. She was going to the last place she wanted to be. Spinner's End.

If Snape was surprised to see her on his doorstep he didn't show it. He wordlessly opened the door wider to invite her in.

"Miss Lestrange. To what do I owe the pleasure," he sounded bored, his eyes narrowed shrewdly on her.

"I've come to ask for a favour Professor," she said quietly, her eyes darting around.

She knew Pettigrew had been recalled from Snape's house and he was currently snivelling in the Malfoy manor. It was from him that she had pried the information about Snape's abode. She had also threatened him with silence.

Snape for his part looked mildly interested, a single eyebrow raised.

She fidgeted, nervous and unsure. She had mentally gone through this conversation with him for the whole day. She formulated her approach and she would give nothing away about her true loyalties. She didn't know about him anymore, if he would turn her into the Dark Lord or if he still was a saboteur.

"You told me once, that you would always be on my side— is that true?" The words were out of her mouth before she realised and she paled at her word vomit.

His face was impassive as he scrutinised her. She felt his mind reach out to hers, testing her walls, looking for truths.

Finally, so quietly she almost didn't hear it, he murmured, "yes".

She sighed a little, some of her tension leaking out of her body as he tensed further. He was afraid she realised, nervous about her loyalties.

"I need a favour Professor and I will pay in kind for it. Anything you need, at any time, I will do it no questions asked. So long as you ask me no questions." She was still nervous. What would she do if he couldn't help her?

He raised an eyebrow and waited expectantly. "Well?" He drawled after it became clear she would say no more. She shook her head, "No- you have to agree first." She said.

He scoffed, taking a seat before giving her a disdainful look. "And how do I know I am getting a good deal."

She nodded. He was a very careful man. She knew that. She had to respect that and trust him.

"Polyjuice potion. I am after one days supply of it." She said lowly.

Both of his eyebrows rose. It had not been what he expected. "An expensive and limited resource. What payment am I to receive?"

She sighed in relief. He had some- he wouldn't be bargaining if I didn't.

"A no questions asked favour from the Dark Lord's left hand." She said. It was a large promise- many would kill for. She was in charge of many things and her importance was growing every day.

He hummed, steeping his fingers and looking at her intently. "Clearly you need it for personal use. If He had sent you there would be no need of payment. What am I to say if he requests some and I have none?" He asked curiously.

"Surely Professor you have more than a single day's dose in stock?" He was trying to get a rise out of her.

He was quiet, thinking— calculating. "Two favours." He said finally. "Two favours- no questions asked that I can redeem at any time. One for giving you the potion and one for keeping your secret. Sound fair?" They way he was smirking at her showed her he knew just how unfair he was being. She was desperate and he knew it.

But damn did she need it. "Deal."

His eyebrows dropped and he nodded curtly, disappearing into his basement briefly to grab the goods. She cringed at the vial of the foul looking potion, her hand reaching out to accept it.

He did not release the vial but instead held tighter. "You are alright?" He asked lowly, concern flashing across his face.

She snorted, "of course I'm not alright Professor. Look at me. But this— this will make it better at least for a day."

He let go, nodding slowly. "Be safe." Was all he said before busying himself with some papers on his coffee table. She was being dismissed- good thing too since she had a wedding to go to.

The muggle Cassiopeia was impersonating had been a customer at the hair salon that Lucas ran. She was an almost aggressively plain woman, of average height, weight and looks. It was perfect.

The wedding was a small affair at the Burrow. The invitation had a secret password on it- a precaution in times of war. Her password was Pac Man.

She felt sick with nerves as she was granted entrance by Arthur Weasley himself, who found her secret word delightfully imaginative. It was strange interacting with a man that she now knew disliked and distrusted her. He treated her kindly and politely- as one would expect a strange guest.

Cassiopeia hovered awkwardly making small talk and trying to blend into the background the best she could. She sat in the back when the ceremony started, near other Order members and old friends alike. Not that they knew it was her.

Dora looked beautiful. Her hair was a soft pastel pink, falling in waves down her shoulder. She wore a simple dress, nothing to extravagant but stunning in its minimalism. Ted was escorting her down the aisle and he was grinning and openly weeping in happiness. Dora looked mildly alarmed and embarrassed and yet she stared at her father with love and gratefulness.

Cassiopeia almost started crying watching the pair of them. Ted was always very in touch with his emotions and was never afraid to show them. He was so very happy for his daughter and was moved that he was given this honour.

The whole crowd laughed a little as he sniffed loudly and handed her off to Remus, grinning at the couple and trying to dry his eyes.

"Ted," Andromeda finally had to call softly, beckoning the man to join her in the front row. Dora mouthed her love as he finally took his seat.

Cass didn't think she had ever seen Dora look so happy, so content. She adored that man and from the way Remus was looking at her he also adored her. He looked at her as if she wasn't real, as if she were the object of his greatest dream.

The vows were short and it wasn't long until everyone was standing, applauding the couple. Cassiopeia was surprised to find that she too was crying at the spectacle.

She decided to stay for the reception, at least for a little while as it was a chance to eat Molly Weasley's food. She savoured the meal and the desserts, wishing she have it far more often. She was surprised at the depth of emotion she felt eating the food, the memories it brought back, and the gaping, aching hole of regret and sorrow.

Despite her internal overwhelming emotion, she had done well to stay under the radar. Nobody had noticed anything amiss about the strange woman in attendance. At least she thought so before she felt a presence next to her. She was even more surprised when she was pulled into a tight hug.

It was Andromeda, who was delicately wiping tears from her eyes as she pulled away from her, keeping one arm firmly wrapped around her.

"Your sister will be so pleased to see you," she said slowly, smiling brightly. "If I could believe for one moment that Ted could handle his emotions I would tell him about you being here as well. I will tell him eventually tonight, but he is already strained." Andromeda said fondly looking over at her husband who was still crying a little with joy as he watched Dora and Lupin dance. Cassiopeia smiled as she watched him. He was precious, and he needed to be protected.

"How did you know it was me?" She asked, taking another quick nip of the potion. She was almost out.

Andromeda gave her a warm smile- "I know you very well young lady. I would recognise you anywhere."

She spent the evening mostly with Andromeda, talking and reminiscing- neither woman willing to bring up the elephant in the room- the reason why she was disguised in the first place.

They were only interrupted once when Dora threw herself at Cass, wrapping her up in a tight hug that nearly squeezed the life out of her. Cassiopeia returned the affection, feeling warm and wistful. "Thank you Cass. Thank you for coming. It really means the world to me," she murmured.

"I wouldn't miss it for anything Dora- not even He couldn't keep me away. I love you." There was so much more she wanted to say to the girl, she wanted to say how beautiful she looked, how Lupin was a lucky man, and that being present for this occasion was a dream for her. If she had managed to get it all out, it would've been the most compliments she had ever paid the girl. As it was- she choked up, blushing as the swell of emotion that came from the food earlier, threatened to suffocate her. She blushed deeply, swallowed hard, and tried to focus on her breathing.

Dora's eyes were shining as she looked at Cassiopeia, both girls completely unable to say what they felt, and yet they didn't need to. The other one knew exactly what they were thinking. It was a connection that they rarely felt, but it ran deep.

She was out of Polyjuice and the clock was ticking. It had been a glorious day, a great piece of escapism, but like all good things in her life-they had to end. It was time to go back to reality. Back to being the monster.

She said goodbye to Andromeda, hugging the woman fiercely. "Please go to Marseille Andromeda, please take Ted. It'll get worse before it gets better. I would feel much better if you went abroad." She said softly.

"I am working on it, but Ted isn't budging on this one. He wants to help and he abhors the idea of hiding. Not while his daughters are on the front lines," Andromeda said lowly, looking conflicted.

Plural. He had said daughters.

"On this I know me and Dora are United. Please auntie, you must convince him." She knew Andromeda was the reasonable of the two. She was a Slytherin after all, self preservation was a trait they all had. She could also logically assess the situation. They knew last time to hide, it was infuriating that this time around they weren't.

"I will talk to him." She said firmly, pulling her daughter close to the exit. "For now you must go. I can see your tattoos." She said.

"We love you Cass." She called as Cassiopeia rushed to leave. "I love you more Andromeda," she responded with more thana little melancholy before leaving the party.

It was bittersweet being so close to friends and loved ones and not being able to tell them that she had been there. But she cherished the memory, and was pleased she was able to see her sister on such a momentous day. A flicker of light, in an ocean of darkness

Xxx

Cassiopeia scowled as she hovered on her broom, readjusting her mask and robes accordingly. She was an adequate flier but she was no athlete on the contraptions and she much preferred being solidly on the ground.

Tonight was the night Potter was being moved and she scowled at her companion, Caecilius Jovius who looked disgustingly comfortable on his broomstick. She bet he had been on the quidditch team or something in his youth. She also would put money down that he was insufferable about it.

Her dark thoughts were interrupted as the seven pairs of shapes rose into the sky.

The chase was on.

The Dark Lord took after Mad Eye moody and she gave chase to Kingsley Shacklebolt, grimacing as she saw both Dora and Lupin in separate pairs. Her mother wasted no time in going after her niece and Cassiopeia was briefly paralysed between giving chase or following orders.

It was chaos and it didn't take long for her carefully laid plan to fall into shambles. Even she was impressed at the lack of discipline amongst the senior Death Eaters as they gave chase, breaking formation. She had engineered this operation to fail, but even she couldn't hope it would be this spectacular.

Despite their inadequacies, the chaos worked in their favour. She paled when she saw a dark shape fall from their broomstick down to the earth below. It had been Moody. Killed by Voldemort himself.

She ended her chase of Kingsley to pursue Lupin when the Dark Lord turned his attention to the Auror. That was her orders, she was to defer to him, focussing on other targets. It was a waste of their resources to put their most powerful on one target. He had two lackeys to support him, he didn't need Cassiopeia.

In the end it was a mixed success. They had dealt a serious blow to the Order but ultimately they failed their main objective and they lost two Death Eaters themselves. Potter eluded them once more and he was livid. He was so angry that she genuinely thought he was going to punish her himself, instead of letting Bellatrix do it.

She knelt trembling on the ground before him as he took his anger out on the recruits for the failed mission.

Her punishment came after everyone else's, at the hands of her mother and under his cold gaze. They all watched as she writhed on the ground in pain, some with pity and others with horror. Most of her men had never seen Bellatrix in action, not really. As injured as she was, torturing her daughter always seemed to bring a new energy to her. Cassiopeia was left battered and bruised, forbidden from healing any of her injuries for her failures.

Xxx

Cassiopeia was walking down the streets of Diagon alley, limping slightly still from her punishment, her eyes sharp as two of her lieutenants worked from the shadows. They were days away from taking over the ministry and everything was falling into place nicely. She was there as a decoy- a known target and threat while her men worked from the shadows, gaining control of the few hold outs.

The Aurors were watching her closely and she had never faced such scrutiny before. They knew it was coming too- and that was their target- one of the Aurors that was following her. The auror office had made a mistake in assigning one of their most highly ranked to follow her. Apparently they felt she was too high valued of a target to be left the lower ranks.

And so she walked, drawing them out to a public place, waiting for the cue that they had done it.

She had to look busy to not raise suspicions. She had a list of things she had to pick up for her Aunt Narcissa and her mother, a few books she had ordered and she had heard rumours Borgin had found a rather intriguing book of curses.

It was as she was examining this list that someone called her name softly.

She startled, looking up and froze, staring at the last person she had expected to see.

Charlie Weasley. Merlin he was handsome. Her throat felt dry as her dark eyes met his clear blue ones and she was hurt to see he looked uncertain, guarded.

"Charlie," she said weakly, finding her whole vocabulary had suddenly abandoned her.

"Cassiopeia," he said, fidgeting with his shopping bag.

They both stared at each other, both frozen and at a loss for words.

"What- what're you doing here?" She asked finally, feeling a little breathless. What kind of magic did he have that made her feel this way? It was like she was confounded.

"Shopping." He said simply, gesturing to his bags. "You?" He asked after a long pause.

She swallowed.

"Shopping." She held her list up weakly. "I uh need some new robes and shopping with Aunt Cissy is awful." She said, stepping around the truth.

Charlie nodded and another silence fell between them. Cassiopeia couldn't help but stare at him, trying to memorise every feature before she left him again. "You uh back home for long?" She asked nervously. She was wasting time and her two associates would be viewing this whole interaction. She had to go. Soon.

But first, she wanted to admire him for another brief moment.

"Yeah, got Bill's wedding. It's in three days and I'm still trying to find a good wedding present."

"Bill is getting married? Bloody hell good for him." She said sincerely. War seemed to bring people together.

Except her and Charlie. War broke them apart. She felt the pang of loss very keenly as she thought that.

"Yeah, mum's hosting and she doesn't exactly get along with her. It's gotten better but it's still tense." Cassiopeia grimaced in sympathy- Molly Weasley was a lot at the best of times. She couldn't imagine what she was going through now.

"I er I would say give them my best but I don't think they want it." She said awkwardly, blushing.

Charlie nodded, his face colouring as well. He looked like he was fighting something, an internal battle raged behind his eyes and she took that as a good enough cue to leave. She couldn't bear what he had to say.

"We better get going Charlie. That group of Aurors following me might get too curious and bring you in for questioning. You need to get gift shopping." She said weakly, giving him a small smile.

She almost got away without him saying something, it had been close.

"Did you ever love me?" He asked lowly, stopping her in her tracks. She froze, her heart stuttered with hurt and terror. She could lie to him, tell him he had only been a toy to her, a petty distraction like every other man she slept with.

But that would be a lie. And she couldn't lie to him.

"I do love you Charlie Weasley. It's why you must stay away from me." She hardly moved her lips and she covered her face in a cough in case anyone tried to read her.

He looked older at her confession, sadder and tired. "We could've tried Cass. We still could- despite everything." He tried to reason.

She shook her head. She would not hook up with him anymore. Not while she was an active Death Eater. She loved him too much to do that. And if they somehow lost the war she would be in prison for the rest of her life. The best thing she could do for him was to stay away.

"I would watch your back if I was you Weasley," she said, ignoring his worlds and slipping back into her role. She did not have the luxury of idealism. She was damned and she would not bring him down with her.

She loved him too much for that.

He twitched as if struck and she walked away before he could retort, her mood turning black and foul.

She was livid when her charade of shopping had to last the better part of two hours and she eviscerated the Death Eater in charge of putting the auror under their control. She didn't care for his excuses- her people were supposed to be the best, and this was a subpar show.

She felt the pent up persistent rage even after punishing the hapless idiot. It took several hours of hard training with her punching bags to finally tire herself enough to work through her emotions.

It had all been Charlie's fault. Seeing him had that effect on her and she found it intolerable. What if she had happened upon the Dark Lord in that state? He would've seen straight through her distress. And he would use it against her.

No. She had the purge the boy entirely. She had worked too hard, had given up too much to be taken down by a boy.

The safest thing she could do for it was to forget him entirely. Wipe him from her mind, cut him out and erase all their time together.

Snape could help her, he could extract the memories and make it so their relationship was never so. Even as her logical brain processed this, the gaping hole of heartache and pain made her pause. The part of her that loved Charlie was a facet of her humanity. If she cut out those emotions, where we she stop? Would the Tonks' be next? Dora even? How cold would she become? Could she even be trusted?

No. It was better to risk them then hasten her descent into monstrosity.

She punched her bag harder and faster until her chest burned and her muscles shook.

Xxx

It was August first when she learned that the Dark Lord still did not trust her fully. She, one of the architects of his campaign of terror, had been deliberately left in the dark of key components of the Ministry takeover.

She was at the Ministry that day, overseeing the kidnapping of Rufis Scrimgeour. She had been told to go there and oversee the operation from the shadows. She was to be silent and available- on hand if things go wrong. So she waited and watched as a years worth of planning and infiltration finally came to fruition with the fall of the ministry.

It was truthfully a very boring job. She loitered looking busy along with a group of men scattered about the building. It was a piece of muttered conversation between two of the more inadequate thugs that brought her up short.

"The ministry is the shit assignment mate, of much rather be with the Carrows. They's gonna burn down some houses innit, them Weasleys. I love me a proper bonfire"

She stilled as she heard the man's complaining. The Weasleys? She knew for a fact that the Carrows were nowhere near the ministry. She hadn't placed them anywhere.

Her mind raced and her heart sped up in panic as she put together a few threads.

He hadn't told her. He had planned a whole operation without her. They were going to raid the Weasleys simultaneously and were likely going to hit other Order targets.

She swallowed, her panic rising every moment. She had to warn them.. but how? The Order was here too weren't they? If they could get the message...

She cast the strongest notice me not charm that she could before casually sauntering over to the lifts, squeezing in and pressing a few random buttons for some floors. She had no plan, no destination in mind, and she was feeling overwhelmed in her panic.

The wedding. Today was Bill's wedding. Isn't that what Charlie had said a few days ago? They were going to attack in the middle of a party.

She took a step out of the lift, her mind buzzing as she felt the panic begin to overwhelm her. She needed to stop, to breathe, and to think.

Who would be at the ministry and not at the wedding?

Aurors. There must be at least one Order Auror on duty.

She ducked into a toliet, quickly transforming her most distinctive features into something more plain. She covered her tattoos, changed her hair. Conjured a pair of eyeglasses. That should be enough for the casual observer.

She made her way to the Department of Law Enforcement, anxiously glancing at her watch. She had minutes to find someone and warn then, minutes before the Minister of Magic was kidnapped and eventually executed.

Dora's office was empty. She felt the panic clawing at her throat as she looked around for someone, anyone who could help.

She picked up her pace, looking around furtively while trying to look calm and collected. She needed to look like she had business there, that she had a destination in mind. Less than 5 minutes left.

It was as she focussing on blending in that she literally ran into her answer-Kingsley Shacklebolt had his nose in a file as he turned the corner, knocking bodily into her, spilling his files across the floor. If it had been anyone else, he probably would've knocked her into the ground. However Cassiopeia withstood the blowly solidly, looking up at the rapidly apologizing man.

He didn't seem to recognise her at first, dropping to pick up the spilled folders. Cassiopeia knelt to help him, glancing at her watch. 2 minutes.

She handed the files over to him, holding them tight so he couldn't take it easily, before leaning in and whispering her warning to him.

"The ministry will fall. You have 2 minutes to warn the Order about an attack. Assume all locations- including the wedding."

And she was gone, striding past him before he could even process what she said or who she was.

She disappeared into the crowd, trusting Kingsley would act on her warning instead of wasting time chasing her. She hoped it had been enough, that he had a way of warning them. She also hoped he understood the implications of the ministry falling.

By the end of the day they had planned for the Auror office to be no more. She shed her disguise, walking once more into the atrium, her heart rate dropping to a normal speed as the ripples of shock ran through the building workers.

Pious Thicknesse was making his announcement, the news was filtering down rapidly. Rufus Scrimgeour was gone, and there was a new order in charge.

By 5 pm she walked into her new office, Amelia's old office much to her dismay and took a seat behind the desk. The former inhabitant, Amelia's replacement was a muggle born wizard who had been taken into custody along with the rest of the Aurors who were stupid enough to remain.

She sighed as she looked at the walls, her eyes lingering at the hidden passage she knew led into a library of confiscated spell books. She surveyed the group before her, a motley crew of wizards and thugs all looking at her expectantly. Most, but not all, were Death Eaters. They were all deplorable, violent, and many were criminals. But they were hers, the Catchers.

She stood from her desk, glaring at them each individually acknowledging and intimidating them. "You lot have been chosen for a new department to bring about a new era of justice and reform.

It is our job to maintain order. We are loyal to Minister Thicknesse and his government. We protect that government from rebellion and terrorism. We ensure the law is respected and that the peace is reserved. We will likely need to resort of force as we face traitors and dissidents. We will not shy away from that. We will show them what it means to be loyal and the consequence of dissension.

You will follow my every command as I create the path ahead. Now more than ever, let us train and gain strength as we will need it in the coming days.

Minister thicknesse is the first step in our victory however we must clear the way for him to true, unopposed power. We have a job to do and we will do it efficiently and effectively.

We are the catchers and our word is law. My word is law. Are we clear? "

She glowered at her recruits, staring each one in the eye, impressing the importance of their position. Each man stood tall and proud, their faces serious as they took in their new responsibilities and their new leader. "Aye marm" they intoned, saluting her.

"Good." She leaned forward on her desk. "The Auror's are to be no more. We have orders to confiscate their wands and incarcerate them. You lot" she pointed at a random group of Catchers- "You track them down, some will still be in the Ministry and some have surely fled. The Minister has also instituted mandatory identity cards. The public has two weeks to register with us. It is our job to ensure registration and to track down those who fail too. We are looking for muggle borns especially to disobey. You will each be given a region, and an assignment to carry out random checks. Do you understand?"

"Yes marm" they intoned, still standing at attention

"Good. Your assignments are pinned to the wall memorise them and get to work boys." She said leaning back in her chair heavily.

Just as they were about to file out, there was a loud screeching coming from one of the desks in the corridor outside her meeting room. An Alarm. Somebody had said a taboo word, a word that summoned her troops.

"Jovius, take a few men and go. Now." she ordered, sending them out to pursue their prey. The first prey of the taskforce actually.

She sat quietly in her new office, long after the Catchers had left, revelling in the horror of their circumstances. They were winning, they finally had the upper hand. And she would very soon order the death of countless innocents.

Word had come back, the Weasleys were safe, and whoever said the taboo eluded capture thus far. It was late when she finally left the Ministry, disguising herself once more before going to her dearest friends house. Lima was working late, as ever. Cassiopeia wondered if she had even heard the news of the Ministry.

She was startled as Cassiopeia knocked on her door, opening it up with a frazzled expression.

"It's over Lima. You need to go. Sooner rather than later. They will be coming." she said to the woman, interrupting whatever greeting was at the tip of her tongue.

Lima's mouth shut closed with a snap as she took in the words before slowly nodding. "Of course. If you excuse me Cass- I guess I should plan." she said smoothly before shutting the door in the girl's face with a distracted espression.

Cassiopeia apparated home to her empty flat where she stood alone in the darkness for a few countless moments, thinking and planning. So many were in danger and there was very little she could do about it. With a flash of rage she picked up an object and threw it across a room where it shattered with an almighty crash.

The remnants of a teapot littered her floor. They were winning. The Dark Lord of was winning. The only thing she could take solace in was the failure to do any real damage at the wedding earlier in the day. The Weasleys had been forewarned and therefore forearmed. That fact alone saved many lives.

It was the little things she needed to celebrate. She needed to hold them dear if she were to survive this sane.

 _a/n sorrrrrry for the long wait. I have been writing but I have also been crazy busy irl. I have the ending of this story fleshed out, I reckon only a few more chapters to get through the war._

 _Reviews as ever are greatly appreciated. thanks for reading and sticking around_

 _tibys x_


	20. Chapter 20: Madness

It started with mandatory ID cards for every resident of wizarding Britain.

She had expected fear and outrage from the public when they first announced it. At best it was met with a general huff of the extra paperwork.

It was for their protection Minister Thicknesse had said, so they knew who was in the country and so they could secure the country better. What did it matter if blood status was a mandatory disclosure.

Everything became documented and the country was placed under surveillance. To stop extremists the Minister said.

Extremists such as Harry Potter. Undesirable number 1.

And yet the public remained quiet. Harry Potter has been in the public eye for years. Everyone remembered the exposes Rita Skeeter wrote about him when he was 14, and the public blaming he took the next year when he claimed the Dark Lord was back. People who didn't know the boy personally were wary of him. He seemed like a troublemaker.

But life moved on. People went to work, cared for their children, and went to the pub. Most people's day to day lives were mostly unaffected by the new regime. Until it became affected they would be content with the government change.

After all, what did the average working man have to say about domestic politics?

Visitors to the ministry needed badges, and were subject to random search. The public needed their Identity papers on them at all times. Weeks passed, and the public outrage still never came.

It was a beautiful late summer day and Cassiopeia wasn't supposed to be at the Ministry. She was supposed to be training the new cohort of thugs to be Snatchers but the Dark Lord summoned her and demanded a new curse.

And her book of runes was at her desk in the Ministry. Typical that the curse he wanted required the one bloody reference book she didn't have on hand.

So there she was, stalking down the halls already in a bad mood that was growing worse by the minute. She hated being in the Ministry and hated that part of her new position required her to be there regularly-most of all she hated everyone in Wizarding Britain who was burying their heads in the sand and who kept on going on.

But her Snatchers and Watchers were everywhere. And they were idiots who needed a tight leash to stay in line.

And thinking of idiots it was only natural that she would happen upon two of her thugs, harassing a woman near her office.

A woman who looked very much like Mira Lima. A very muggleborn Mira Lima. The same Mira Lima she had ordered out of the country.

"And just wha' was you doing lurkin round here den? Where's your badge den?" She heard one of her Watchers ask.

Lima indeed was badgeless, looking pale and uncertain.

"I—uh-I forgot it," She stammered, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Please—I'm so sorry. I'm lost," she continued.

Bloody idiots. All of them.

"Ashmole." She snapped, grabbing the attention of the three. Lima's eyes widened even further and the two men flushed and hurried to straighten themselves up, standing to attention.

"Caught this one lurking marm. We was gonna check her papers, she's got no badge innit," the taller of two idiots said.

Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes, taking in the scene in front of her, glaring darkly at Lima in particular. She was the biggest idiot of them all. Cassiopeia had explicitly warned her, ordered her to leave the country. And yet here she was, in the Ministry of Magic of all bloody places.

"I know her cousin. She is Mira Ashmole half-blood. Lost is she?" She asked softly, her mind racing to find a way out of this.

"Course. Says she's lost, we can take her in for questioning, no need to bother you," the shorter of the two men added, a cruel glint in his eye. He was one to watch out, blood thirsty and stupid was a dangerous combination.

"I'll do it. I could do with a good ol interrogation,``she shot her watchers a sharp smile and pulled out her wand.

"Go back on patrol boys. I'll deal with our lost friend here. I will remind her of the rules, and the consequences of breaking them," she tried to pull on all of her malice to make her intentions clear. If possible Ms Lima paled even further, looking nervously from her to the two Watchers.

"We can do it marm, we know how busy you are, you shouldn't have to waste your time on half bloods, we know how precious it is." The taller idiot said.

She snarled at him, causing him to recoil in fright. "I'm sorry, was I asking you a question? I believe I ordered you to return to your posts." She said softly, adjusting her grip on her wand.

The two Watchers paled before nodding deeply, averting their eyes and moving away from Lima.

"You. In. Now." She ordered Lima, gesturing to her now open office door, a cold rage making itself known in her voice. Mira swallowed audibly, her face filled with apprehension.

She shut the door behind Lima, and cast the strongest muffling charm she knew on the door, the windows, and even the vents.

Mira was pale and shaking in the chairs in front of Cassiopeia's desk, uncertain about her fate. Cassiopeia had been clear in her last message- and she did not look like she was putting on a show.

"Papers," Cassiopeia demanded, taking a seat in her chair.

Mira passed over her forged documents with shaking hands.

Cassiopeia looked at them with disdain before digging around her desk. She had a small stack of blank identity papers she had yet to dispose of. She filled one out quickly, pulling out an ink pad and sliding it over so she could add her fingerprints.

"Fire your forger. Tell your new one he needs to match these exactly— including the hidden magical signature. Unfortunately I am not the only person who checks that signature. Mira Ashmole, half blood, cousin of Theophrastus of St Mungos. That should be enough for you to leave the country. "

Cassiopeia burned her poorly forged papers and glared angrily at the woman across from her. "What in the bloody hell possessed you to come here. I told you to leave, get out of the country, and to not return. Do you have a death wish?" She asked, her anger giving her a headache.

Mira straightened slightly, defiance filling her face. "We did so much good together. I couldn't just leave when there is still those who need help,"

"That was a different time Lima," she said in exasperation. The whole world has changed, nothing was the same. "I told you to get the fuck out,"

"I couldn't leave. Not when I heard they were going to destroy the muggleborn registry." She retorted, fiercely.

"Tomorrow. It'll be gone after tomorrow." She rubbed her hand over her face. They already had the names of the muggleborn witches and wizards of the country. They were part of a war in a world they had no idea about.

Mira grinned, a bit of her old self shining through her apprehension as she pulled out a roll of parchment from her robe, beaning triumphantly. "A copy will be gone tomorrow. My best work if I do say so."

Cassiopeia stared at the parchment, trying to process the magnitude of the woman's actions. "What have you done Lima? They'll make an example of you, they'll torture you for this." She swallowed thickly. She wouldn't be punished by just anyone, for a transgression this severe only the Left Hand would do. She would be forced to do it.

"Nobody will notice it's gone. I just need to get it out of the Ministry." She said, tucking it away carefully, waving away Cassiopeia's concern.

Cassiopeia shook her head, leaning back in the chair and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her headache was growing. The woman was a brilliant lawyer, gifted even, but she was thick headed. Just plain idiotic like everyone else around her. She couldn't leave her hanging. She couldn't leave her to hang.

"How good of an actress are you? Can you cry?"

Her brief fidget was all the answer she needed.

"Of course not. Why would it be that easy. You need to get out of the Ministry. You have a meeting with Arthur Weasley, reporting a misuse of a muggle artefact. You forgot your badge—"

"I was running late, my cat died this morning," Lima added, trying to build the story.

Cassiopeia stated at the woman. Her bloody cat dying? Whatever, best not to argue. "I'm going to have to hurt you. You are left handed correct?"

She knew she was, but she thought she would double check as a distraction before slashing her wand through the air, aiming to Lima's right hand.

The sound Mira made was awful, and she made it a point to lift the charm on the door so the two Watchers eavesdropping would hear. It was a high pitched squeal not dissimilar to an animal dying.

The woman sobbed loudly as she pulled her ruined hand to her chest, cradling it and rocking slightly in her chair. The look she gave Cassiopeia was one of deep betrayal, pain and confusion.

She raised her wards back up. "Breath Lima, in and out. Focus on breathing right now. You'll be fine, your cousin will patch you up real tight in a bit. Until then, breathe. "

The woman nodded, letting out a low whine, unable to say more.

She flicked her wand a few more times, mussing up her hair and giving her a generally disheveled look. "Pull on the pain and lay up your crying and fear," she ordered, tucking her wand away, pleased with her work.

Mira looked wretched. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot as she shuddered in pain.

"Listen to me, we don't have much time. Unlike my mother, my interrogations are quick and efficient. Weasley is being watched. A lanky weasel faced chap with greasy brown hair. He will stick out, especially in the muggle world. Go to the hospital with Weasley, get that hand healed up and look out for that wizard."

Mira was rocking in her chair, squeezing her eyes shut as she began to sweat from the pain. She nodded through in acknowledgement.

"Weasel face. Got it." She gasped, finding it hard to breathe.

"Focus on breathing Lima. You can trust Weasley. Take these identity cards. We have the names on that list already. We will come for them. You need to get out of the country and take those kids with you. Nod if you understand."

Lima nodded, struggling to control her breathing.

"You're ready." She said finally, "put on a good show otherwise we'll both have much worse to lol forward too." She warned before dropping her spells completely after her acknowledgement.

She pulled Mira up from the chair roughly and pushed her forward, out the door and into Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum who were waiting outside.

"Alright mum? We was just..." they scrambled to come for a reasonable excuse to be at the door instead of taking patrolling the corridors.

"Disobeying a direct order and neglecting your jobs. Go before I break your fingers as well."

The pair paled as they looked at the disfigured fingers on the woman's hand. They bowed once more before reluctantly sauntering away.

She watched them with narrowed eyes. They would be watching, she was willing to bet on it. Dangerous agents to be aware of.

She had initially rough handled Lima for show but it soon became apparent that she really was in a lot of pain and could not reliably put it aside. Perhaps breaking all five of her fingers was overkill but it was convincing.

So she grasped Lima's shoulder as she led her down to the arse end of the Ministry to Arthur Weasley's office.

"This is your last warning Weasley. If another one of your appointments comes without the proper badges, I will personally make sure you are sacked." She said coldly, barging into his office and pushing Lima into a chair

Arthur Weasley stood up from his desk in alarm, confusion and concern clouding his face.

"What—"

"Don't look so surprised Weasley. I found this one wandering the halls. She claims to be meeting you. Unless I am mistaken..." she let the statement hang, her hand tightening in Lima's shoulder as she stared at Arthur.

"O-of course. My next appointment. I wondered where she had gone. I can take it from here Cassiopeia." He said nervously, his eyes flicking between the two women and the door.

Cassiopeia scowled lightly as she saw Arthur's eyes darting to the doorway, looking at someone else. She tilted her head and threw half a glance and sure enough Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum were trying to look busy as they watched the scene. She rolled her eyes, she'd deal with their disobedience later.

"No thank you Weasley? Or apology for wasting my time? How rude," she said my dangerously. They were being watched, she'd have to sell it.

"Tell you what? Why don't you take the rest of the day off? Without pay of course. In fact- why don't you take the week? Taking this blithering mess with you." She patted Lima on the shoulder. She flinched and let out another whimper.

Arthur's face was turning red as he squared up, "now look here..."

He stopped when she pulled out her wand, and she could hear her two Watchers move into position behind her, ready to jump in if this got nasty.

"What Arthur? What are you going to do? Touch me, argue with me, talk back to me and I will personally make sure you are sacked from this position. I will make you a persona non grata, nobody will hire you. And then, when you can't afford to feed your family, when starvation and poverty are weighing down like weights across your neck, I'll give you a job alright. Cleaning up the messes my Watchers leave after interrogation." Her voice was soft as she stepped closely her him, her eyes flashing with danger.

His face was bright red in anger and indignation but he wisely remained silent. Her mouth soured at the look of disdain, betrayal, and disgust flashed across his face.

"There's a smart lad," she said brightly, forcing a sarcastic smile on her face, "now take the girl and get the hell out of the Ministry. I'll let your supervisor know you are taking the rest of the week without pay,"

His eyes burned with frustration and hate, but looking at the injured woman in front of him he swallowed his pride and nodded, gently helping Lima up from the chair.

He spoke her quietly, offering words of comfort as she shook from the pain of her injury. Cassiopeia watched the pair closely, a little concerned Lima was actually going into shock.

"Excuse us," Arthur said stiffly, coming face to face with her two Watchers. With a nod from her they both budged out of the way, making it a tight squeeze for Lima.

It was silent for a few beats after Weasley left the room.

"Did I stutter?" She asked the two Watchers.

"No mum. That was brilliant with Weasley," the stupider of the two said, grinning widely. "Showed him y—" He keened as he dropped to his knees, clutching his now bloody hand.

"I warned you. Go back to your job, or I would break your fingers like I did Ashmole's." She flicked her wand at the taller of the two, who's eyes were wide as he tried to back out of the room, his hands up in surrender.

It was always nice when people make their hands accessible. He cried out in shock and horror as his hands popped and splintered under her spell.

"Take this as a learning opportunity. When I say something, I mean it. Get out. You are to finish your full shift before receiving medical attention." She waved them out.

When she was alone in the room she sighed deeply. She was just so tired. And frustrated. And she still had a lot of work to do.

She left the Ministry shortly after informing Arthur's superiors about his departure, destined for the seediest bar she knew of in Knockturn Alley. Fortunately she knew the man who followed Arthur had a certain preference for blonde haired men, it wasn't long before she found a willing prostitute who would seduce anyone she pointed him to.

She brought the man to an alley near the hospital where she was able to spot Weasleys Watcher hovering near the entrance of the hospital.

Good. Mira was finally getting treatment.

She watched the prostitute work, and was dismayed to see just how quickly her Watcher abandoned his post. She had hoped he would at least pretend the resist the obviously suspicious seduction and try to keep to his job.

Apparently following Arthur Weasley was a boring task and get Watcher took the first out he saw. She frowned, watching him walk down the street with the hired wizard. She should sack him, but having an incompetent Watcher on Weasleys case might not be the worst thing.

She waited until Mira and Arthur exited the hospital about an hour later. She looked better, disheveled and tired but no longer in pain.

She whispered something in Arthur's ear and the man paled, looking at her critically before nodding slowly. Mira led him away deeper into the muggle world.

She hoped that would be the last she had heard of Mira but somehow she felt the woman would continue to make a nuisance of herself.

She glanced at her watch and cursed. She still had to create a curse for the Dark Lord and he was probably growing impatient. Safe in the knowledge that Mira was safe and in the hands of the Order she turned on the spot and got to crafting.

Despite this drama, life moved on in Britain. With very little changed for the average resident. Cassiopeia started getting reports of a sort of underground railroad- an organization had formed and was smuggling muggle born witches and wizards out of the country.

Cassiopeia put a task force together with her dullest men to hunt them. It smelled of Lima, and her suspicions were confirmed when she received a rather unusual gift at her old flat in Bristol. She was furious that the woman continued to defy her wishes and stay in Britain-and despite this anger, she was rather amused at the brand new pager that was wrapped delicately in a bow.

It was brilliant. What better way to evade magical detection than to use muggle technology? She had Lima's number and could send messages one way to her in real time. It was safe, relaible, and frankly ridiculous. Cassiopeia would have difficulties carrying her pager around since she was predominantly in the wizarding world that frowned on muggle technology, but she could hide it and check it occasionally for messages. This provided a way for Cassiopeia to reach out to her with warnings and intelligence, and gave her a chance to receive messages when she did not have time to sneak away to Bristol.

She snorted as she put a silencing charm on the piece of technology and slipped it into her robe, dropping her usual intelligence and making her way out.

xxx

Severus Snape was the new Hogwarts headmaster and it was her job to ensure all the students attended school. Her snatchers investigated truancy. Minister Thicknesse took a child education very seriously after all.

She investigated the Weasley absence. It appeared Ron Weasley had come down with some illness. She reluctantly found herself at the Burrow with one of her more germophobic men. He refused to get close to the bedroom, cowed by the wailing coming from within. Her reception was cold at best, with Arthur still on his suspension that she forced on him.

Cassiopeia peered inside, her eyes narrowing in the slender form in the bed, bundled up in an alarmingly garish set of orange pajamas.

The room was cold and stale. If Ron truly was sick Mrs Weasley would be fussing over him. Instead she was downstairs glaring daggers at her subordinate.

Mr Weasley cleared his throat nervously "as you can see, he is too ill for school." He said, trying his best to look stern.

Cassiopeia swallowed. "Yes, quite. He sounds like a banshee." She said softly, closing the door shut behind her, staring at the now very pale Arthur Weasley.

"Best keep him home for now Weasley. If he should make a recovery, do let us know." She met his gaze straight on, her eyebrows raised and her eyes cold. She knew. And she wanted him to know she did.

Mr Weasley swallowed and wisely stayed quiet, leading her back down the precarious staircase.

"How's'it mum?" Her lackey said, looking uncertain as he stood to attention.

"It's contagious alright- the boy makes a ghoul look attractive."

Mrs Weasley paled and Arthur has a fine sweat on his face.

"Spattergroit mum?" The snatcher asked nervously looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there.

"Undoubtedly. The boy is excused from school until such time that he is no longer contagious. Ginny will have to report however." She gave the Weasleys a hard look.

"Right mum. Very good. Shall we fill out paperwork in the office," her lackey looked keen to go.

"After you Simmons," she gestured our, hardly sparing a glance at the stricken Weasleys.

xxx

They jailed the Aurors for treason, confiscating their wands. They outlawed the whole organisation. They had tried to overthrow the government said the Minister. They were fascists who wanted military rule.

This caused a general ripple of uneasiness. But there were not very many Aurors and most did not know one personally. Perhaps they had tried to assassinate the Minister. Perhaps they killed Scrimgeour. Life continued, and ultimately there were no protests or outcry.

They pardoned Death Eaters, one by one. It was a quiet affair, hardly reported on by the media. Wrongful convicted by a corrupt system. A conspiracy that had been uncovered by the Ministry to wrongfully in prison upstanding members of the community. The Minister was dedicated to finding those responsible and was searching for justice.

The Lestranges were the last to be pardoned. They were finally allowed to walk freely, but they were met with a healthy amount of fear in the world.

The public recoiled in fear in the face of the convicts but there were no protests, no sit ins, if any disobedience happened, it was not on the Watcher's radar.

They quietly rounded up muggleborns and questioned them. Where did they get their wand? From who did they steal magic from? It was not hard to find support for such proceedings. It had been easy to find prosecutors for such a crime as stealing magic. In fact Dolores Umbridge took great joy heading up that inquisition.

It was autumn when they had a full list of muggle borns who were wanted for questioning.

Ted was on it. Along with Potter's friend, Hermione Granger. So was Lima.

She hoped Ted was in France. She didn't have time to check.

Her finger hovered over one of the names on her list. Constance Green.

She had been her first friend at Hogwarts. She was innocent and trusting, a stalwart rule follower. She would report to her summons, likely early. And her wand would be stolen and she would be imprisoned.

Her trial was in three days. She had to find a way to get her out of the country.

It was bright and early Cassiopeia found herself walking down the high street of Wells, England. There was a chill in the air, a crisp morning that hinted at change of season. She was in her muggle clothes, trying to blend in as much as one could while covered in tattoos

The cathedral bell was ringing, announcing the hour and the town was waking up. She sat outside a cafe, ordering a coffee as she watched the farmers market get set up.

Constance was there, setting up her stall and laying out her wares- a variety of mixed veg, herbs, teas, and preserves. Organic and home grown her sign boasted below a leafy "Green's Greens".

Herbology has always been her strong suit in school. It seemed that knowledge transferred seamlessly into her new business as a farmer.

Cassiopeia had done her research, Constance Green had mostly left the wizarding world, operating in its periphery. She sold herbs to a few apothecaries in the wizarding world, but the bulk of her business was with vegetables she sold at markets such as this one. She did file for her identification card mandated by the new laws. It was how she came to be on the muggleborn registry.

Cassiopeia wondered at Constance's life, it had been so easy for her to say no to their world. To start over entirely was incredibly rare and special.

She understood when a muggle man approached her with a large smile, carrying a basket full of strawberries. She grinned at the man, taking the basket from his hands and gave him a quick kiss.

Constance had chosen love over the wizarding world.

Cassiopeia bided her time, trying to think of the best way of warning her old friend. She would need to go into hiding. She needed a safe house.

She didn't want to cause a scene at her stall, and there were too many ears for their conversation. She thought of kidnapping her but thought perhaps she might not respond well to that.

Her opportunity came when she left her veg stall in the hands of her partner as she went around to make her purchases.

Cassiopeia kept her head down as she walked behind Constance, hooking her arm through hers and pulling her away down a side alley by the cathedral.

Constance gave a small cry of surprise but was silenced by a quick spell. Unless one looked closely they looked like two friends going for a walk. She tightened her grip on Constance who was struggling to break free, "Relax Green, I'm not here to hurt you." She muttered, nearing the quiet spot she had found earlier.

Constance stilled for a second, recognising her voice, her alarm turning to confusion.

She was pleased Constance didn't try and run when she let go of her. Perhaps their friendship bought more goodwill than she thought.

Cassiopeia lifted the silencing charm, and cast several privacy and notice me not charms in the area. It wouldn't do for muggles to wander in on them.

"Cassiopeia Tonks. What in the world are you doing here?" Constance breathed, looking at her old friend.

"It's Lestrange these days. What with mum and dad being around once more." She said, hardly able to keep the bitterness at bay

"Your parents?" Constance looked confused. It appeared she did not keep up with the news.

"Yeah, When was the last time you read a newspaper?" She asked, wondering just how disconnected she was.

"We- not in years. I moved back to this world when I met Greg. He's a muggle you see. I hardly keep track what's happening in our world." She said, still staring in disbelief at Cassiopeia's presence.

"You received a letter from the Ministry, an invite to speak in front of a panel?" She asked.

"Yes, on Monday. What's this about Cass? We haven't spoken in years and now you show up here, practically kidnap me? And now your asking about Ministry bureaucracy?" She asked, frustrated and confused.

"Don't go. Constance, if you've ever trusted me or valued me as a friend. Don't go. It's a ploy, they will confiscate your wand and put you in Azkaban with the rest of the muggleborns."

Constance paled as she looked into her friends eyes very closely. "You're having me on," she muttered in disbelief.

"I am not Constance. You need to hide, if I could find you my men will easily. We haven't killed anyone yet but—"

"Killed anyone? What is going on? Your men?"

Merlin this woman was out of touch.

"There was a coup Constance. The Dark Lord is controlling the Ministry. There are no Aurors anymore, they've either gone into hiding, been killed, or imprisoned. I have their wands in my desk right now. We are coming for the muggle borns next. Our world isn't safe for you and you need to hide."

Constance looked pale and a little sick, "We? Cass what do you mean we?"

She closed her eyes, giving a short sigh as she rolled up her sleeve and showed her friend her Dark Mark. Of course Constance didn't quite understand the meaning behind the gesture.

"I lead the organisation that hunts down fugitives Constance. I am basically the Gestapo to put it in muggle terms. You are in danger. Take your partner and hide. You gave us your information when you signed your ID card."

She looked lost, her eyes darting around in panic.

"But where am I going to go?" She asked her voice small.

"Bristol first. It's just up the road. Go to this address and say Mildred Smith sent you. Give them this card, and they'll sort you out. Please Constance, you have to be gone before your hearing on Monday. When you don't show up, we'll come looking. I desperately don't want to find you." she said seriously, pressing a small card into Constance's hand.

Cassiopeia left Constance there, turning quickly on her heel. There wasn't anything left to stay. She had been gone for too long as it was, and she did not have a good excuse to warrant such a disappearance. She had to hope her friend listened to her and saw reason.

She was relieved when she received word that Constance was a no show. She filled out the paperwork declaring her a fugitive who was wanted for questioning. Her name was published in the paper joining the steadily growing list of Muggle borns who disappeared without a trace.

She put her worst two Snatcher's on her case. Those two were lucky if they found anyone. They were lucky they even had a job.

The number of published disappearances in the world grew, and the wariness of the public was becoming a low murmur. And yet nobody made a move against the government, there were no protests. Just a niggling doubt that something was not right in the back of people's minds.

Life moved on, people went to work, kids grew up, and the pubs were still full in the evening. The people were silent in the face of dictatorship.

Xxx

The change in the government structure led to something of a recruitment boom as people applied to become Watcher's and Snatcher's-some respectability given to the position now that it was an official part of the ministry.

Unfortunately for some of the wizards who applied to work for her, they were neither psychopaths or bad people-simply misguided. Signing up for her task force was a life sentence, people were not able to simply quit and walk away. And so some resorted to abandoning their posts and running away.

She was on the hunt for one such traitor-a man who had started as a Watcher before gaining his mark. He thought he was serious to the cause, but had balked at his first murder and went on the run. The Dark Lord wanted him and wanted to make an example of him sending both Cassiopeia and Bellatrix hunting for the man. Cassiopeia had managed to wound the man as he ran from a meeting, but he had gotten away- a short reprieve from his gruesome fate.

They were looking for him, knowing he was injured their first port of call was St Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Being back in St Mungos was strange. The hospital was filled with life and movement, the stress of the staff and family members showing on every face. It was dark times and there were many injuries, some from genuine Death Eater attacks and some from those who were capitalising on the chaos of the times.

Her presence caused a quiet stillness as former friends and staff found themselves suddenly engrossed in something in front of them, looking for any excuse to avoid eye contact and hoping to avoid notice of the pair at all.

She avoided acknowledging anyone or anything in the workplace, wishing as much as them that they would conduct their business in a timely matter and leave just as quickly. Her mother on the other hand sauntered around the hospital, taking great joy in the fear and apprehension of those around her.

She tried not to roll her eyes at the woman's childish delight at being so reviled. So distracted she was by keeping an eye on her mother she ran straight into someone.

"I am so—oh Cassiopeia!"

"Theo," She said, instinctively putting her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. He beamed at her, "Merlin Cass, it's been ages." He continued.

"Theo, it's not really a good—"

"And who do we have here?" Her mother drawled, her eyes bright as they flicked between the pair. "And just how do you know my daughter boy?" She asked, smirking lightly, her eyes dancing with danger.

"Mother—" Cassiopeia tried to intervene but was silenced by her mother raising her hand sharply to quiet her.

"I was speaking to the boy. What's your name?" Her voice sharpened as Theo floundered, his face turning a bright red and his eyes wide.

"Madam Lestrange" he managed finally, bowing his head and averting his eyes in a mixture of fear and respect. "Theo Ashmole mam." He said finally, his voice quiet clutching the files he was carrying close to his chest.

"Ashmole. Lots of squibs in that line if I am not mistaken?"

"Yes mum." He said, his face burning brighter.

"Theo Ashmole. As in Theodore?" She continued, amused by the boys palpable fear.

"Mother." Cassiopeia tried once more to intervene.

"Don't be rude Cassie, Cass did he call you? Let the boy talk. I never get to meet your friends."

"Theophrastus." He murmured his face flaming.

"Theophrastus." She breathed.

"He's not my friend. I used to work here remember? Most people know me. He is a former colleague, nothing more." She tried to step between her mother and the poor boy. "We have a job to do, remember?" She hissed, staring down the older woman.

Bellatrix's face soured as it settled into something a little more dangerous. She did not appreciate the tone her daughter took with her and she certainly didn't appreciate the insinuation that she forgot her orders.

"Theophrastus Ashmole. Perhaps you can help us. You see my daughter and I are looking for a dear, dear friend of ours who might have been admitted last night. Lanky chap, long hair, hit by a nasty curse." Her voice was sharp and her grin cutting as she stared down the shrinking boy.

"He doesn't work with curse victims, I worked here for years, I know where the ward is. Let's go." She tried to reach for her mother's shoulder, to pull her away from Theo, to try and get him out of her mind, out of her attention.

Bellatrix moved her shoulder out of the way of her daughters grasp, her hand flashing with silver as she spun to catch the girl's arm with her knife.

The ward was already quiet in presence of the Lestranges, but now it was deathly silent as Cassiopeia stumbled back with a surprised grunt, clutching the line of fire that was running across her arm, feeling the blood already seeping into her robes.

Bellatrx's eyes were alight with manic glee as she watched her daughter stumble. "How clumsy of me," She said, her voice deceptively light.

Cassiopeia closed her eyes, hoping whatever curse or poison that was on the knife wasn't potent enough to kill her immediately. She figured her mother would eventually give her the cure. She hoped at least.

"Madam Lestrange. Miss Lestrange." Her eyes shot open at the only voice brave enough to break the silence of the ward. Lionel Spavin stood tall, eyeing the pair critically.

"Ashmole, I believe you have patients to see to." He murmured quietly to the mortified boy, who scurried off with only a short backwards glance. Bellatrix pouted at the loss of her latest plaything but she had his name if she ever wanted to chat again.

"And who are you?" She asked the new person, her smirk returning.

"Lionel Spavin, chief cursebreaker here at St Mungos."

"Your old boss Cassie!" She smirked at her daughter who was still pressing against the cut on her arm, sweat beginning to bead on her brow. Lionel frowned at the girl but wisely remained silent.

"To what do I owe the honour of your presence Madam Lestrange?" He asked formally, calling on the charm he saved for donors and business meetings.

"We are looking for this man Mr Spavin," Cassiopeia said, panting slightly as she struggled to pull a photo out of her pocket.

"Certainly. A man matching that description was admitted late last night. He's not in any trouble is he?" He asked, frowning at Cassiopeia.

"I don't believe that is any of your business, Spavin? Was it? If you'll be so kind as to lead the way." Bellatrix intervened, gesturing the man forward.

"Of course." And with a final look at his former apprentice and colleague he turned to help them on their mission.

"So tell me, what was it like working with my daughter?" Bellatrix prodded the man as he walked. He glanced once more at the girl who had conjured up some bandages to wrap her wound hastily.

"She was one of the best apprentices we've ever had and a cracking curse breaker. We were sorry to see her go." He said evenly.

"I wonder what you're better at Cassie, crafting curses, casting them, or breaking them. Perhaps we should test that next time I'm bored." She mused aloud, seemingly oblivious to her daughters deteriorating condition and the alarm on Spavin's face.

Bellatrix continued to loudly debate this question much to Cassiopeia's mortification as her mother extolled on her many triumphs and failures as a curse maker and curse caster. Lionel remained silent, his bright red ears the only indication he was affected by the one sided conversation.

"Here is your man." He said stiffly, gesturing to the unconscious wannabe Death Eater in the hospital bed.

"We'll take him from here. While we are here, perhaps you should take a look at my daughter. If I am not mistaken that poison should be hitting her nervous system very soon. Agonising pain leading to paralysis and death is still an hour or so away, but best nip this in the bud now."

Lionel looked alarmed as he fully understood the extent of the girl's injuries, pulling his wand out in preparation. He was stopped by Bellatrix's wand as she lazily raised in it the air. "Not quite yet," Her voice was low as she gave the younger girl a hard look.

Cassiopeia's shoulders slumped as she lowered her eyes and bowed her head in response. "I am sorry mother for forcing you to punish me." She said contritely.

"I won't do it again." She yelped as her mother threw a sharp cutting charm towards her, grazing her cheek. She kept her head down and eyes averted however, knowing better than to react any more than she had.

"Liar." She hissed coolly, her anger transforming her into the dangerous predator that lurked beneath the surface. "You live to frustrate me Cassie darling. I'll have to be content in punishing you until the unlikely day you learn your place. Clean yourself up and be on your way. I'll finish our task alone." She spoke lowly to her daughter, walking closer and closer until she was mere centimetres away from her face.

"Yes mother, thank you for your patience and understanding." She whispered, keeping her head down and eyes averted.

It seemed enough to satisfy the deranged woman as she spun, grabbing the unconscious man on the hospital bed, and disapparated with a loud crack.

Cassiopeia remained frozen in her pain and mortification, squeezing her eyes shut as she fought to control her emotions. She was ashamed Spavin and Theo, the two people she cared about most in the hospital, had seen her like this. And now she had to face Spavin alone.

"Take a seat and let me see your arm," Lionel said, his voice surprisingly soft. She flinched away from his helping hand, sitting heavily with a long sigh. Her head was starting to swim and her temperature was climbing. She was now completely covered in sweat and it felt like her arm was on fire.

Lionel hissed In sympathy as he undid her hasty bandage, wincing at the angry and infected looking wound on her arm.

"Snake venom. Bloody painful but she was exaggerating about the timeline for death. I still have a few days before then. She prefers methods that draw out pain and suffering." She panted, feeling the venoms paralysing effects hit her chest, making breathing a chore.

"We have noticed an uptick in snake attacks and have taken to stocking anti venom." Lionel said, already moving to dig around the medical cabinet for the correct potions.

"Smart. Acromantula anti venom might be a good bet to keep handy in the coming weeks as well." She wheezed.

Lionel only paused for a second as he understood the significance of what she said.

He went back to her side, gently using a glass dropper to place the potion in her open wound. She hissed as the fiery pain in her arm flared up but otherwise remained completely still until the wound gradually began to heal.

Lionel however was looking at her mark, His mark, plain as day on her forearm, his eyebrows furrowed and face drawn.

"I'm sorry it worked out like this." He said softly, busying himself with the shallow cut on her face

She shrugged, her face burning in shame as she looked away. "It is what it is. I can take it from here," She tried to grab the medical flasks out of his hand.

Lionel hovered, supervising her work feeling a strange loss for words. He wanted to be angry at her, to seethe, and call her a hypocrite but... he had seen Bellatrix Lestrange and the casual disregard she was treated in.

"Are you poisoned often?" He asked lowly

She scowled at her arm, watching the potion work on her wound. "Poisoned not so often. Cursed? Well it's a natural hazard of being near Bellatrix Lestrange for any length of time." She said bitterly, sighing in relief as she felt the potion neutralise the poison.

"Watch out Lionel, things will only get worse before they get better." She warned, sniffing loudly and bandaging her still healing would.

"Look after yourself Cassiopeia." He said sadly.

Cassiopeia nodded. She pulled out her wand as she walked away, whispering a quick incantation and hoping Lionel understood.

"Oh! I think you dropped something!" He shouted, noticing a small notebook on the chair.

With a quick glance and a sad smile backwards Cassiopeia disapparated.

He was a clever man, he would understand her notes for the curses that would be appearing soon. He would be able to help the people she hurt.

xxxx

Cassiopeia watched with a disapproving frown as her mother stood behind Draco and whispered in his ear.

They were at the remnants of a house in the countryside, the once roaring blaze was now a gently smouldering pile. On the lawn in front of them was a young woman who was on her knees and sobbing, begging for her life.

She was a fugitive. She had failed to report to the Ministry for her hearing, and had tried to attack them.

Bellatrix found her, using this as a learning opportunity for Draco.

Draco wasn't the student she had been as a child. He was too much like his mother to do any real damage. His cruciatus was weak and she was sure he couldn't kill.

She preferred it that way. Let his soul stay intact. Maybe after all of this he could have a normal life.

She grew tired of watching the pitiful scene. Bellatrix was alternating between scolding Draco and offering encouragement and instruction.

Hold your wand this way, feel these emotions. But she could see Draco's heart was not in it. He was terrified and disgusted. He lacked the hatred and anger needed for true dark magic.

She felt a prickle in her Mark, it wasn't a full summon but a warning. They had been away for awhile and the Dark Lord was waiting on a report.

Cassiopeia drew her wand and with a quick jet of green light the poor woman slumped to the ground, dead.

Bellatrix growled, spinning on Cassiopeia wielding her wand like a whip, she lashed out, opening a few fresh welts on her face and arms. She flinched at the sharp pain and bowed her head to her mother's anger. Being around Bellatrix came with its own hazards.

"He is waiting for us. There is time for this later." She muttered, still looking at the ground. "I am sorry mother." She muttered when the woman remained silent, her eyes wide and pinned on her.

She let out a sigh of relief when she disapparated, leaving her and Draco alone. Draco was pale, his eyes wide and transfixed in the dead girl in front of him. She pursed her lips when she saw the tremble in his hands and a light sheen of sweat on his face.

Draco Malfoy was definitely not a killer.

"Come on Draco, let's go back." She said softly, wrapping an arm around the shocked boy, ignoring his startled flinch. He nodded reluctantly, never taking his eyes off the scene.

She needed to do something for him.

They bowed when they met the Dark Lord. He was in a smaller room in the Malfoy manor, a wicked looking book in his hands. He smirked in amusement at the weeping cuts on her face.

"My dear Little Lestrange, did you deserve your punishment?" He stood up, his eyes transfixed on the blood across her face.

"For insubordination my Lord," Bellatrix said sharply, glowering at the two. Bellatrix was mostly pleased that the Dark Lord favoured her daughter. But she was viciously jealous when her daughter received more attention than her.

The Dark Lord hummed, approaching Cassiopeia who was still kneeling in front of him, his hands cradling her head, his thumbs painfully digging into her cuts. She closed her eyes, trying to delay the inevitable.

He tutted in faux sympathy, his grip tightening in warning. She knew better than to hide from him. She opened her eyes and relaxed into his grip, her body turning to jelly as his mind overwhelmed hers.

He took his time, savouring the feeling of being in her mind, casually sitting through her thoughts and feelings. He was always pleased with her Pavlovian reaction to his intrusions.

"Did you deserve it Little One?" he asked once more, softly.

"I did My Lord. My mother is merciful and patient with me." She said, imagining the smirk on the woman's face. It was best to give in and admit when she was wrong. The truth meant very little any more.

"Leave us," the Dark Lord commanded. Bellatrix scowled darkly and Draco scrambled from his knees already making his way out.

"Bella. Meet me in my office. I shan't be long with our little one here." He said with amusement, still half submerged in her mind.

He enjoyed Bellatrix's jealousy nearly as much as he enjoyed Cassiopeia's conflicted nature.

Cassiopeia sighed, leaning forward into his touch, looking for more. He was a drug, the only time she felt peace was when he filled her head. His presence was so large and powerful it drowned everything else out.

"You have a deal to make me." He said pulling out of her mind so only a shadow of his presence was left. She shuddered, feeling the void he left keenly.

"Draco." She murmured, her eyelids fluttering as she struggled to find herself in his fog.

"Your dear disappointment of a cousin." He mocked highly.

"He is not a killer." She said plainly, "he is too much like his mother." She took a few deep breaths, grasping onto the thread of thought and following it back to sanity.

"So we should dispose of him if he is not useful." The Dark Lord said lightly.

She scrunched her face in disgust, jerking her head to the side. "No!" She nearly snarled.

"No. He is a clever lad. And loyal to our cause. Let him plan, let me place him in the Ministry where he can do something useful."

The Dark Lord hummed in thought, his hands still around her face, his fingers twirling through her curls.

"You worry for his soul." He said mockingly.

She remained silent for a while. It was not a question. "He is a gentle soul. Killing will ruin him. Make him useless. Let me kill on his behalf, while he plots. Politics and scheming are his strengths. He was a true Slytherin in way I was not."

"You should think more highly of yourself little Lestrange. The mudblood's taint on you is unfortunate but a true Slytherin you are. What will you do for me to spare the young Malfoy's soul?" He asked, his hands smoothing down her neck to her shoulders.

"Anything my Lord wishes," she murmured, her heart thumping. Promising him anything was dangerous.

He laughed, high pitched and cold. "I can already demand anything of you because you are mine pet. You were made for my bidding and whims. I want something more. Something precious," he leaned forward suddenly and she paled as she felt the wet trail he left up the side of her face as he licked her boldly to prove his point. He could do anything to her and she would not complain. He owned her. Mind and soul.

She swallowed, what could she give him? What horror could she promise him?

"I'Ve an idea," He hummed lowly, and with a dark smirk, he pressed his face closer, his forehead against hers painfully, his hands wrapped fully around her head now.

She struggled against him, closing her eyes tight as she tried to pull out of his grip, feeling the pressure building in her temples. She was overwhelmed, and he was everywhere and she was so present and aware of him.

Everytime he filled her mind in the past, she had been numb to it, lost in the bliss of not being in control. This time was different, painfully so. His touch made her more aware of her body and the feelings contained therein. She could feel the sweat across her skin, the air entering and leaving her lungs, and each delicate pinprick around her head where his sharp nails dug into her skin.

The pressure kept building and she was sure this was death. She could feel the coarse fabric of his robes pressing against her skin, she could feel the coolness of his rank breath across her face, and the acrid smell of body odour and blood. The pain was building to new thresholds, his nails were no longer tiny pricks of pain against her skin, they were felt as if they were digging into her very skull. His face was forced against her, and she felt herself collapsing into him, gasping for breath, no longer able to pull air because his face was so close to hers.

It was more than close, it was almost as if he was pushing his way into her, his skin melding with hers, as he forced himself closer still. Her chest heaved as she tried to breathe, desperation causing her to fight even stronger against him. However try as she might, she was not strong enough to break his iron grip. He was no longer holding her, it felt like he was anchoring himself to her very soul.

He pulled her body steadily closer to his, she could feel every one of his bones against hers, his waxy skin as they stretched over his thin frame, pushing against her. She was going to die, he was going to kill her. He was going to consume her. She was unable to breathe, and her chest was struggling to rise in panic, she was finding it hard to thrash, she was uncertain exactly where he ended and she began, there was no air between them, no space. He just was. Her pain reached new levels, making her dizzy as that mingled with her panic and slow acceptance that this was the end. She would die for this favour, he was sucking the very life out of her body.

And then he was gone and she was on the floor panting.

She coughed, drawing ragged breaths as her mind tried to catch up to what had just happened, her body shaking in exhaustion and her mind leaping in panic, confusion, and fear.

Where had he gone?

What had he done?

Her thoughts were wild and confused, unusually disorganised and chaotic.

It took her too long to realise what had really happened. To notice the unusual fullness inside of her head that extended to her very body, the power that was thrumming beneath her skin, and the wild black energy that filled her.

Her mind reeled in horror as a high, cold pitched laugh tore itself out of her throat and echoed into the air.

She felt him experiment with his new limits, stretching himself inside of her, filling her with his power and energy to such a degree that she felt as if she were going to burst. She watched in silent horror as her skin rolled, as if there were insects crawling just below as his magic rippled.

She could feel him, his every emotion, his every thought. He was amused and fascinated, wondering at the feeling of her body, so strong physically and compact compared to him. He pulled her wand out of her pocket and cast a quick spell to conjure up a looking glass, laughing as it instead shattered immediately. They were powerful, their magics combined together.

He tried once more, focussing on preserving the integrity of the mirror.

She wanted to weep, the tear at her skin, her hair and blind herself as she looked through his eyes at the looking glass.

There was Cassiopeia, standing tall, looking faintly intrigued. Everything was the same except her eyes. They were red, the eyes of the Dark Lord. The only tell of her possession.

"Oh yes, this is much better" he murmured through her mouth, a dark smirk stretch across her face.

"So powerful little Lestrange. What shall we do first hmm?" He mused, breathing deeply through her nostrils, running his hands through her hair, toying delicately with her curls.

She screamed the best she could, and for a second there was a brief twitch that flickered across her face as she tried to assert herself.

"Now now, none of that little one. Not as we are getting so well acquainted." A wicked gleam entered his eye as he turned on the spot taking them far away from the manor.

Thus began the Bloody Wednesday as it became known in the newspapers.

They attacked a muggle village not far from Ottery St Catchpole where the Weasleys lived. She was certain they would have been able to see the flames and hear the screams of those nearby.

She was powerless to stop him, she felt every emotion keenly, felt his glee, his cold calculation and fascination as he watched people flee from her wand into the night. He dismissed her emotions, only speaking to her adding to the deranged feel of the night as she seemingly had a conversation with herself.

She couldn't hide her horror and disgust from him, not while he inhabited her body, as he possessed her very soul, and he found it amusing. She could feel him pause and search her feelings and memories, looking for some reason, some understanding of why she was the way she was.

Of all the villages he could've chosen, he chose one of the few that she had experiences in. She had visited this village, years ago with Charlie Weasley. They had sat in that pub and caught up after dinner at the Burrow, the first time they had spoken after their fight over Glynn Gambol.

Her heart tore as the Dark Lord sealed all the exits of that pub, the centre of the village, lit it on fire. She cried, screamed, and warred with the spirit that invaded her body. The only outward indication of her inner turmoil was the slight twitch in her face, as the Dark Lord asserted his control once more.

"How curious Little Lestrange," he murmured, her voice getting lost in the night as the flames roared.

He paused, examining her memories slowly, finding the root of her despair, and he tutted as he suddenly understood her weakness. His amusement slowly grew into anger which eventually morphed into rage. She had hidden from him, a whole affair with a Weasley nonetheless. She had _loved_ him, a filthy muggle loving blood traitor. He had long ago thought he had ripped every secret from her, and this was proof that she had somehow managed to lie.

He hadn't been actively trying to punish her before that revelation. That had changed.

They didn't stop at one village. They decimated half the muggle villages near the Burrow, knowing full well that the Weasleys would both be very aware of their havoc, and would be powerless to stop them.

They had alerted the Order to the mayhem, and a feeble resistance was met halfway through the decimation of the second village. The Dark Lord fought cruelly, pulling her face into an eerie smile as she fought her former friends and colleagues.

She tried to stop him, tried to reassert control when she saw her sister on the battlefield, her eyes shining with disbelief, horror, and determination. Dora fought beside Kingsley Shacklebolt, Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones. The Dark Lord fought with glee, instead of blocking their spells, he would grab muggles and push them into the pathway of the Order's spells.

And in return he would lash out, nothing immediately deadly, but immensely painful and with long term consequences. The only sign that Cassiopeia was in her own body was the occasional tear that would roll from her eyes and the odd flash of terror that was quickly replaced by a manic exuberance and shining delight in the chaos and pain.

Dora was the first to realise what had happened to her sister, recognising that her eyes were not the usual black of the girl she had known for half her life, but the red of the Dark Lord himself. They were losing and even with four against one, they were no match for Voldemort and they knew it.

It was with defeat and anguish she called the troops to retreat. They had lost this fight, and Cassiopeia was a beast of her own with His influence in her. Not all was lost, Cassiopeia had sustained rather substantial injuries of her own, as the Dark Lord was less concerned for the well being of his vehicle, more focussed on causing as much death and destruction as possible.

It wasn't until there was nothing left to burn, and when all resistance had been crushed did he finally leave her body. Cassiopeia fell to the ground, writhing as she regained partial control over her body. She felt a scream rip out of her throat as she felt as if her body was being pulled into two. She could feel him, moving under her skin, digging and clawing at her body as he looked for a way out. As he left her body it felt like he had ripped open a large scab, leaving her weeping and shaking on the ground beneath him, in pain, raw from the experience and hollow from being suddenly so empty.

He bared his teeth at the girl, reaching down to grab a fistful of her robes, ignoring her gut wrenching cries and apparated away with her. He left her on the ground, only stooping down to press a finger to her mark, enjoying the way the burning pain added to her shock.

Cassiopeia was clawing at her face, pulling at her hair, and hyperventilating. Her mind felt fractured and her soul felt as if it had been torn asunder. She struggled to pull air, and she felt the dark taint of his magic like a brand on her being. She yelped when soft hands touched her shoulder, curling herself into a little ball and covering her ears as she whined pitifully.

She could still feel the flames of the burning villages licking her skin, and all she could hear was the screams of her victims, horrified and disgusted faces of her friends and family flashing across her mind's eye, mingled with their latest victims. The scenes replayed themselves on a loop. She forgot who and where she was. She forgot she was a person, separate from these events. She existed only in this time, and she fought against any touch or sound that was not associated with the memories.

If Severus Snape was alarmed at his former students hysteria, he did not show it. He bowed in front of his master, his dark eyes watching the girl curiously.

"How can I serve My Lord," He asked lowly, remaining on his knees.

The Dark Lord smirked at his left hand, his pet and the mess she was in. "You are gifted in the mental arts Severus, my only Death Eater who is. I am afraid our Little Lestrange has lost her grip on her sanity and requires some medical attention. Her mind will recover. Probably. When she comes to her senses, tell her that her request has been granted."

Severus frowned at the girl, taking in her general hysteria mixed with the blind terror in her eyes. "It appears her condition is severe My Lord, perhaps it would be best to bring her to St Mungos." Snape said cooly, examining her as if she were nothing more than a common potion ingredient.

The Dark Lord waved his hand, "Do as you see fit Severus, heal only her mind, not her body. She needs to remember her mistakes and her punishment." As exhilarating as it had been to inhabit the body of the Lestrange girl, her madness held no interest to him. He had sent Bellatrix to his office hours ago, and he wondered if she was still waiting for him, obedient witch that she was. He had his fill of the younger Lestrange, it was time to turn his attentions to her mother, and the things she could do for him. It was with these thoughts that he left the room, leaving Snape alone with the sobbing girl, his mind already occupied with something else. Violence always did bring about certain-appetites.

Severus waited for the Dark Lord's steps to fade away before stooping down next to his former student urgently, performing a fuller examination of her. She was covered in blood, most of which did not appear to be hers, and smelled like a bonfire. Her eyes were tight and she was rocking, emitting a high pitched keen as terror coloured her face. She was pale, her heart racing and every muscle was pulled taught.

He summoned the matriarch of the Malfoy household, ordering her to bring several calming draughts while he began to clean the grime off the girl. When Narcissa returned she was pale and shaking, looking at the shell of her niece, "what did he do to her Severus?" she asked, her voice a harsh whisper.

Severus pursed his lips and remained silent as he tried to force the potions on her. Cassiopeia thrashed wildly against him, fighting as if her life depended on it, and it took both of them to restrain her long enough for the potion to take effect.

"Severus," Narcissa demanded, panting and rubbing at a few bruises that were now forming on her body, her eyes shining with worry and horror.

"I do not know." He said honestly, sighing as the girl finally relaxed as the potions subdued her. The horror and tears did not stop, and neither did the shaking. "It is not madness from traditional torture. This is something else." he said darkly.

Narcissa grabbed her wand, systematically cleaning the grime and blood off the girl, frowning as she took in her many superficial wounds. Severus stopped her as she started to heal them. "No, the Dark Lord said she must not be physically healed. Only mentally." he said harshly.

Narcissa bit her lip, fighting the burn of anger and hopelessness as she watched her niece struggle with insanity. She had always been so strong, so sure of herself. It was hard to see this.

Severus hesitated as he pulled his wand out, worried about cracking the girls mind further. But if he was to help, he had to know he reasoned-"legilimens," he murmured. He was shocked by the raging inferno of his mind, the madness and hysteria fuelled by raw horror.

He wasn't sure if there was anything he could do to help her, and he certainly could not leave the school unattended for the length of time that would be needed to make any meaningful progress. "We'll have to bring her to St Mungos." he said grimly.

Narcissa nodded, taking a deep breath to calm herself so she could focus on what was important. Narcissa had failed her niece in the past, she would not do it today.

"I know an old colleague of hers who can help." She said, her voice low and determined. Severus carefully lifted the girl into his arm and together they disapparated to the hospital in the hope that someone there could repair her mind from whatever trauma she had just suffered.

 _A/N sorry for the long wait, but a nice long chapter (pretty much two chapters in one really) to make up for it. Please let me know what you think! Of the possession and the fine line Cassiopeia is walking. Reviews are loved and deeply appreciated. Shout out to_ _AvalonTheLadyKiller and Beesy for recent reviews!_


	21. Chapter 21: Hollow

Terror. She was surrounded by pure, raw terror.

It swirled around her, the anguished cries of a thousand victims lashing out at her, shredding her soul and she felt a subtle shift in her mind, as if it were trying to escape as well.

She curled into a ball, her hands clutching her head, trying to catch her consciousness, anchor it in place lest it get away.

It oozed through her fingers, smoky tendrils of thought and feelings slipping away, getting caught in the violent maelstrom of fire.

It was amazing really, the whooshing wind that could be generated by something as small as a pub on fire.

She wondered if the screams made it more fierce, or if that was simply the science of adding more fuel to the fire. Did people, muggles, make the flames burn hotter?

She dug her fingers into her scalp as she felt more of the smoke drift away in a sudden gust.

She felt indistinct. Fuzzy around the edges. Light and sluggish.

She could feel more of herself fluttering away in the wind.

The was the barest hint of relief from the flames, burning hot against her skin, as a cool, silky light brushed against her.

It wasn't enough to stop the inferno, or the whipping wind that battered her form. But it did offer a slight reprieve, enough to be noticed if not particularly beneficial. The silky light came and went for a while. Eventually even that faded.

She curled tighter into a ball on the ground, whimpering as she tried to anchor her brain with her hands, her wrists pressed tightly against her ears as inky black tears leaked out of her eyes. It was loud. Too loud.

She yelled, hoping to drown out the sounds with her own voice. She wasn't certain if this was effective.

She wasn't certain of many things. Where was she? Who was she? What was a she?

She knew, somehow, that she was a she. But what meaning that had was beyond her.

Had she been anything else? Had she ever been?

More tendrils were blown away.

The sounds had always been there. There had never been a time before them, not that she could remember. She felt fuzzy, indistinct, the edges of her skin crackling like static.

Stasis. She needed stasis. What did that mean?

A full body spasm broke her concentration, causing more smoke to slip through her fingers. She gasped, feeling a sharp pain in her chest, a restriction, a pressure around her airways.

She wanted to claw at the pressure enclosing around her, she needed to. But if she left go if her mind, so precariously contained by her hands, she was sure it would fade away.

She wasn't sure why it was so important to keep grasping at the smoke drifting away, only that it was.

She shuddered, her body jerking as she tried to draw breath that was now totally restricted, her body twitching as her chest screamed. And still, she held onto her skull.

When she thought her body could take it no longer, when she felt her grip loosen as her body began to slacken, just before oblivion she felt a searing light, warm in a different way than the fire was, that spread over her body, leaving her skin crisp and with goose pimples in its wake.

The pressure around her throat was gone and her body heaved as she took large gulps of sweet oxygen. Her grip tightened on her head, reasserting its power on the smoke that slowly slipped away.

The cries from inside the burning pub grew louder, more present. Insistently pushing against the barriers of her mind, trying to find a way around her defences. She curled tighter into a ball, shielding herself as much as physically possible.

She was startled when she felt another warm presence touch her, bringing into focus the edge of her being in a way she was surprised to realise she forgot. She had lost track of her edges, feeling them drift away slowly into nothingness.

This presence was solid, reinforcing all that it touched, bringing her into focus. The shock of it made her jump away, wary of this new development. She opened her eyes and looked at the latest intrusion.

It was gentle at first, the oozing darkness that blotted out the night sky and the burning pub. It was solid in a way she was not. Even now she could see the smoke drifting through her fingers, ripped away by the roaring fire wind.

The blackness moved slowly, starting at her feet and pausing, letting her adjust to its presence. She hadn't realised how cold she was until the blackness touched her. It brought warmth that penetrated her skin and bones.

She let it climb, still cautious of the newcomer. She only began to relax when she felt the oily darkness cover her complete wrapping her in its warm embrace, shielding her from the flames and the cries of anguish.

The darkness held her tight and hummed lowly, lulling her into a deep sleep, chasing away all of the demons. It beckoned her, gently coaxing her into giving in to the relaxation fully. She felt as if she were falling through the ground, the once solid floor was slowly stretching downwards, her body weight causing it to contort and give.

A brief flash of terror shot through her system, causing her to tense and fight the blackness surround her feebly.

The blackness responded like a living being, pressing tighter against her without being restrictive. It's humming increased in volume and she could almost hear patterned sounds that were almost like words.

She relaxed once more, trusting the darkness surrounding her and gave in to the disorientating change around her as she fell slowly through the ground.

The darkness changed, becoming more pronounced the further away she moved from the terrors of the burning pub. She could feel it's shape as something solid, beside her. She was aware of every part that touched the darkness, it grounded her as began to assert some sense of reality.

She was a girl. She had arms that were hugging this thing. She had legs, intertwined with the darkness. She was a witch. She was 23 years old. Her name, she had a name.

She no longer knew which way was up or down. They were floating through ethereal scenes of things half remembered. The darkness was leading her, carrying her mostly, controlling their fall through the hazy environment. These surroundings were not as terrifying as the last place had been. These memories seemed bittersweet. They made her ache and she felt sad for reasons she couldn't fathom.

She tried to burying her face in the darkness, finding her surroundings and the disorientation too overwhelming.

She wanted to go home.

The darkness vibrated at that thought, the humming now becoming a pattern, a phrase that seemed so familiar. A sound she felt like she had always known.

She moved closer to the darkness, now terrified of losing hold of it, lest she be lost in this strange place. The darkness, now a solid mass that stood a little taller than her, wrapped phantom limbs around her body, returning the embrace.

Her surroundings grew lighter and less oppressive until suddenly she was in an entrance way. The foyer of a run down tenement building, looking around in amazement. Everything was so familiar, the walls, the sounds, and smells tantalised her. The darkness was a form beside her, delicately holding her in encouragement, it's humming now something deep she could feel it in her bones.

Sounds echoed around her, a familiar laughter, conversations of long lost friends. She felt the emotions and happier memories beckon her deeper into the building, into the rooms. She could get lost in here, bask in the past.

The darkness held her gently but firmly, pulling her away from the tantalising sounds that drifted their way. It's hum changed, something lower, melancholy. It nudged her back to the entrance way.

It wanted her to take the steps out the door. Onto the street. But the street was cold, was dangerous, and was real.

She was a person, a girl with a name. What was her name?

What was her purpose?

She felt a strong jolt of emotion cross her body, a jealous spike that fuelled a protective instinct.

Those sounds, those jolly people, they were in danger. She had to protect them. She had to save them. She had to leave them to help them.

She let go of the inky blackness entirely taking a deep breath before opening the crumbling door and taking a step outside, into the great unknown.

There were a few things she became aware of, the first was pain. Her throat ached and it was difficult to swallow.

The next thing she became aware of was that she was warm and a little constricted. Someone was next to her, holding her tightly.

She was in a bed. A small one and someone was crammed into it beside her, their arms were wrapped around her body, they were curled up beside her, protecting her.

"There's my girl" she heard the person, a woman murmur in her ear, their grip loosening as she stretched out.

She recognised the voice and it brought a flash of terror and tenderness. Her name was Bellatrix Lestrange and she was her mother. She was Cassiopeia Lestrange, Death Eater, the Left Hand of the Dark Lord, murderer.

A sharp pain lanced through her skull as she remembered what had happened.

"Shhh Cassie," her mother stroked her hair, turning her face to press her lips to the girls temple tenderly, "it will take time for your mind to heal, but heal it will."

Cassiopeia laid there, in her mothers embraced, and stayed very still, taking a mental inventory of who and where she was.

She recognised the smells as the hospital. The scratchy bed sheets and small bed proved her point further.

She was in pain. Her eyes were sensitive to the light and were scratchy so she closed them and buried deeper into her mother's embrace. The movement made a few other things very apparent.

Her neck was stiff, too stiff and moving it a centimetre was both difficult and very painful.

Swallowing was difficult and further pain radiated through her throat. She tried to talk but an even sharper pain shot through her vocal chords and all she could do was emit a hoarse whine.

Her mother sat up in their shared bed, her face looming over hers as she examined her neck with a dangerous frown. Gone was the tender mother and in its place was the vicious killer. She was furious.

"I will sort this Cassie. I will ensure that useless swine of a father knows his place." She slid out to bed, ignoring the wide eyed panicked look in her daughters face.

Her father, what had her father done? She tried to ask more but the pain brought her short and more pitiful hoarse cries left her mouth.

"You're back here Cassie. Whole enough for now. Rest up, you are needed sooner rather than later. I shouldn't be too long."

Bellatrix was on a mission, with a final squeeze of her hand she was gone, stalking the halls of St Mungos and no doubt terrifying everyone in them.

She laid very still, afraid of the pain if she moved her neck and tried to understand what was happening. She examined the room, squinting her eyes through the pain and discomfort. She was in a private room at St Mungos. She had been punished by the Dark Lord. She felt sick as she remembered what had happened. He had been inside of her. He had literally taken up residence in her body. She felt violated beyond anything she had ever felt.

She felt hollow and raw. He had forced his way in, ripping open her soul, and she could feel the gaps he left.

She leaned over the side of the bed to be sick, only to find that she couldn't let it out. Her head swam in the pain as she tried to bend her neck and open her mouth. She was choking, she couldn't breathe. What a pitiful way to die, choking on one's own vomit in a hospital.

She drew in a greedy lungful of air as the sick vanished from her throat, the ragged breaths bring fresh waves of pain with it.

Gentle hands pushed her back in her bed, the concerned face of Theophrastus, her old friend coming into view. "None of that now Cassiopeia."

She tried to speak but all that came was more hoarse cries and radiating pain.

"Don't try to talk Cass. Your vocal chords are severely damaged and I suspect you've fractured your hyoid. Your neck is probably killing you too. That spell damaged your spine a little." He said, looking over her critically.

She squealed, wincing in pain as she ignored his suggestions. What spell? Did the Dark Lord do this?

She needed to know what happened.

Theo pulled out his notepad that he kept for taking observations and handed it to her. She scribbled in it quickly "what happened?"

Theo frowned, looking both very tired and very frustrated. "You were admitted five days ago by Mrs Malfoy in a nearly catatonic state. We were unable to revive you and could only guess you had suffered some psychological trauma that caused your mind to shut down.

We of course heard of the events that night. It was a terrible thing. There are rumours…" he cleared his throat, looking highly uncomfortable as his face flushed red,

"Anyways we knew it was mental in origin but we only have a few healers here who can even tackle mental trauma like yours and they can't without explicit consent."

She scowled, he was not answering her question. She tapped the page harder, staring at him coldly.

He looked away, fumbling with some potion vials before waving his wand carefully over her body-beginning the healing process. "You were attacked by Rodolphus Lestrange late one night shortly after you were admitted. He attempted to strangle you, and was very successful.

She-Madam Lestrange that is- she happened upon the scene and dragged him off of you. She wouldn't leave your side after that Cass and she wouldn't let any of us near to heal your injuries."

Cassiopeia tried to swallow and flinched. That was still very painful.

What had she done to deserve this life? Why did her father hate her so much to be so hellbent on killing her. Hadn't she done everything right? She played her part, she became the soldier he wanted her to be. She wasn't just any Death Eater, she was honoured above all others.

Why was she not good enough for him?

She was silent as Theo healed her delicately and she sighed when she felt the stiffness relax and the radiating pain abate. She still felt hollow, like there was a gaping hole in her soul. That wasn't something she'd expect her friend could help.

"You did have other guests." Theo murmured so quietly she very nearly missed it.

"They wanted to meet you at the arcade. When you woke up." He coughed then, his face flaming red as he turned to busy with her paperwork.

"We would like to keep you here overnight for observation. Healing that amount of damage is difficult for the brain to process. Especially since you've been injured for a while. We want to make sure you are all healed up." He was back to his professional bedside manner, standing straight and staring a little above her.

"Theo," she winced. Her voice was weak and hoarse.

He inclined his head, glancing at her quickly before looking away, his face flaming once more.

"You don't deal with mental magics" she said simply, taking a sip of water to help with the pain.

He hesitated, fidgeting nervously. "The hospital is busy. We do the best we can."

She saw through him. He was never a good liar. "You were the only healer who would work with me."

He swallowed. Neither confirming or denying her observation.

"Thank you Theo." She felt a profound sadness as she watched him go tend other patients. He was always a good friend who believed in her. She yearned for the life she would never regain, a life where they could be colleagues, friends again.

She was going to die in this war. She accepted it, and dreamt of the day it would finally come to her. It was so close it felt like a memory, her oldest friend waiting to greet her, to relieve her of her duties.

She grimaced as she swung her legs out of bed. She was still alive and she had responsibilities. She groaned as all of her muscles protested to the sudden movement, cursing under her breath.

It was worth it, she tried to remind herself. If Draco's soul was whole then it was worth the damage to her own. She grimaced and continued moving, her legs shaky as she reached for her wand and disapparated.

She collapsed against the alley wall, gasping for breath as she doubled over in pain, muscles screaming in protest. Perhaps she had been a little hasty with her magic. She was clearly in worse shape than she realised.

She took the time to steady herself, taking deep gulping breaths of the autumn air. She could feel winter in the air, and just as it started to seep through her robes did she feel well enough to walk without collapsing or being sick.

She waved her wand over her clothes, surprised at how quickly the shifted and morphed into muggle clothes. She wasn't sure what she expected, the magic seemed to come to her more easily than it ever had. Perhaps though she forgot how easy transfiguration was- it had been a while since she had to do a spell like that.

She shrugged pocketing the wand and walking into the arcade, smiling wistfully at the nostalgia that washed over her.

This was the local arcade in the Tonks' town. She had spent many evenings and birthday parties here. She smiled sadly as most the games no longer had her initials on the digital high score board. So much time had passed and she was a very different person now.

She walked past the prize area and over to the back by the eating area, which at this time of day was remarkably empty. She went even further in and found just the woman she was looking for. Her cousin, her sister, Nymphadora tonks.

Dora who was there with her husband, the werewolf who looked especially haggard and wary of the whole situation. He gave her a hard stare, his hand fingering his wand.

"Careful there Lupin. We are in the muggle world, wouldn't want to cause a scene." She said coolly, surprised to feel a jolt of cold rage at the man. It was gone as quickly as it had come, leaving her feeling empty. She frowned, wondering at the strong but fleeting feeling.

Dora did not rush to greet her, though she did look cautiously pleased to see her. "Cass. We-I- was so worried about you. The healers weren't certain you would ever wake up." Despite her wariness she did reach out and grab her hand and squeeze it.

Cassiopeia felt-cold. She was distantly pleased to see her sister but that muted by a wariness, a distrust and paranoia that was not there before. She shook her head, trying to dislodge her dark thoughts. She needn't worry about Dora.

"Much as I love being brought back to our childhood. Can we continue this somewhere less conspicuous?" She murmured, looking around at the mostly empty arcade. It was a strange sight, three adults in an arcade neither playing games or eating greasy food.

Dora leaned back, creating more space between them as she did, surveying the girl with concern.

"I know how sensitive you are about your flat, since Remus was with me," she said slowly, making a statement that was more a question.

A part of her rebelled at the idea of the werewolf in her flat, it heightened her paranoia and she could feel her thoughts becoming disjointed, beginning to spiral.

It was only with great practice and experience with the dark side of her mind did she catch the alien thoughts and quarantine them.

"Are you alright?"

It had taken a little too long to wrestle her mind back from whatever dark thoughts and she had awkwardly been giving Lupin a suspicious stare the whole time.

She shook herself, trying to dislodge the cobwebs and find her normality in the situation.

"My local cafe should be open. You know the spot. I could do with some food." Her stomach flipped unpleasantly at the thought but it had been days since she had real nutrition and not the sort that came from a potion.

She did not wait for an answer, instead excusing herself to go to the restroom and apparating

The second apparition was even worse. She was sick in the alley way, her head swimming in pain at the expense of power. She was delicate, vulnerable. With a deep breath she made her way to the cafe that she helped start, anonymously in the muggle world.

Cassiopeia took a heavy seat across from Dora and Lupin, her head still spinning from the exertion of apparition and adrenaline flooding her veins. She felt off and it was a little concerning.

The trio sat in silence until their coffees arrived, the couple staring at Cassiopeia who in turn stared at the wood grain of the table.

What were they doing there? What could they want with her? Why did they seek her out? Were they going to ambush her? It was safe in a muggle area but what if after she left? She wasn't sure she had the energy for the usual diversion tactics.

"Cass." She twitched as Dora reaches across her tables to grab her hands once more. She frowned. Her hands were shaking.

"Cass tell us what happened." Her voice was low, soothing. And wary. It had been a while since she had looked at her with any hint of fear.

She twitched once more, pulling her hands away from Dora as she took a large gulp of her coffee. Glaring at her shaking hands that spilled coffee over the side.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to swallow her nausea down, as she tried to quarantine those screaming voices in her mind. She felt the pull of oblivion once more, gentle but present, asking her to come back, give in to the flames.

Dora was speaking. She opened her eyes, building several walls between her consciousness and the darkness and tried to focus on the girl.

"-you Cass. But your eyes, they- it wasn't you was it?" Her eyes were wide, her hands now tightly clutched in her husbands, who glared at her darkly.

"Possession." She mumbled, wincing with a phantom pain from her recent injury.

She drank more of her coffee as she tried to ignore the raw gaping wounds on her soul. The vacuous space that was left from when he pried his way in, from the total violation and subjugation she suffered.

It was clear that Dora did not know what it was. Just as it was clear Lupin did as his glare was broken with horror and pale disbelief. His mouth gaped open as he look for words to say.

"How are you doing so well?" He finally asked.

A flash of white got rage that was foreign came and went and she clenched her fists. It was echoes, memories of the Dark Lord imprinted on her soul.

"Who says I am Wolf?" She growled, trying to separate her own feelings from the lingering ones from him.

"Cass." Dora scolded before looking at her husband questioningly. "What is possession?" She asked, looking stressed and worried.

"It's very dark magic, reserved only for those most advanced practicers of the mental arts. They can do more than read your mind and plant ideas. They can control you mind and body, pull their whole soul into your body, using it as a vessel that they can control in whatever way they see fit. It typically leaves the victims mad and they tend to perish not long after the incident. Albus suspected he was capable but we were never certain he could do it to just anyone." Lupin said looking at her now in a new light.

He pitied her. She found it disgusting. Pity was a wasted emotion and she abhorred it.

"One needs a connection or familiarity of the mind to perform possessions. Unfortunately for me, he is very familiar with most of my mind as he lives in it most days. I probably would have been fine if he hadn't found out I was keeping things from him. This was punishment for a betrayal." She said frowning.

"Did he-?" Dora asked now leaning forward urgently-"does he know?"

Another flash of rage and bitterness went through her. Dark thoughts whispered in her ear. They didn't care about her, they cared only about what she could give them. She was worthless, useless, and alone in the world.

"He found out about Charlie. Nothing more. I wouldn't be alive if he found out about you." She said almost wistfully. How nice would it be to die, to finally rest, to be relieved of duty.

Maybe she should bait her father. He'd love to kill her. Maybe she could let him.

"I visited you in the hospital. When I could before she got there." Dora said in a small voice. Cassiopeia nodded. She was saying it as a confession hoping to make herself feel better. It did not look like it worked, but it was worth the try.

"She sat with you for three days. Wrapped up around you, her head against yours."

It was a statement that was also a question. Dora never understood her relationship with her mother, the complexity, the twisted affection they shared for each other.

"She saved me. Literally from my father apparently, and pulled me from the depths of madness. Though If she didn't He surely would've eventually. Death would be too kind and too wasteful." She said bitterly finishing her coffee. "Was there anything other than you curiosity that called for the meeting?" she asked, hot irritation and panic building in her chest. She was not alright and talking about it was not helping.

"Just one more thing" She said quietly, her eyebrows furrowed and Cassiopeia glared when she saw the tips of her hair darken just the slightest. "Dad has gone missing. Mum won't tell me where he's gone, but she is in bits."

Another flash of rage shot through her body. She snarled, clenching her fists and she ground her teeth. With great care she managed to keep her tone even, "He did not go to France?"

Dora frowned, looking worried. "Mum would not say. She refused to talk about it entirely and kicked me out of the house. I can only imagine something went wrong and he is on the run. I know he is wanted."

She nodded, feeling the beginning of a headache building. The madness sensed her weakness and she felt the world around her shift slightly, the room was moving and her head starting to swim.

She closed her eyes and sighed, trying to focus on her surrounding. The chair, well worn with colourful cushions, the smell of the coffee and the sounds of the espresso machines as they pulled shots and steamed milk. There was a gentle clatter of cutlery against the plates, the low murmur of conversation, and the faint background music of something that sounded electronic and psychedelic.

"Cass?" Dora asked, looking at her anxiously and breaking her thought exercise. "Are you really alright."

She opened her eyes, glaring darkly at the girl and hunching in on her self. "No. But that doesn't matter. I will deal with it. I will find him and sort it."

Dora was pale with worry, both for her cousin and for her father. "What can we do to help you."

"Stay out of my way." She hissed, giving them both a dark look. "And tell Charlie to stay out of the country. He is in danger because of me."

She swayed as she stood up, forced to lean heavily on the table as she tried to find her balance. She shied away from Dora's helping hands, so insistent next to her, eager to assist.

"I mean it Dora. Something isn't right. I feel— I am not the same. Stay away for a while." She was afraid she realised as she stared at her shaking hands.

Had she been damaged beyond repair? Was she mad too?

She straightened, moving away quickly from the table before Dora could say anything, already halfway out the door by the time she came up with a response.

She wasn't sure how she made it to her house without splinching herself. She was trembling violently, feeling cold and the room was spinning. She collapsed on top of her bed, fully clothed with her shoes still on, finally giving into the darkness and the madness that came with it.

Xxx

Cassiopeia sulked in her house for a few days, her only company was her mother who came and went as she pleased.

Bellatrix provided her comfort and a deep guilt filed her every time she accepted it. It was confounding how a woman who murdered dozens if not more people could be so warm. She was gentle, calm, grounding her when she began to fall into an episode.

She was disassociating. It would happen randomly, when she wasn't paying attention. She would retreat into her mind, get lost in a thought and lose touch with her body. What would seem like seconds to her would be minutes or longer of not moving. She would feel fuzzy around the edges, indistinct and she often found herself hugging herself to provide some solid feedback that she was real.

It wasn't until she was summoned that she noticed the biggest change.

She sat to the left of the Dark Lord in the meeting, as always. Her head was raised high and she met every stare head on. Her compatriots could smell weakness and she could see a few wondering if she was weak enough to take out.

The Dark Lord watched her with amusement. He had never visited her in the hospital or during her self imposed isolation. He seemed expectant, waiting for something. He was waiting for her madness, the evidence of his punishment, and he smirked when she finally snapped.

It had happened to Wormtail. The snivelling idiot felt he was a step above her and had made a snide comment about how she was only fit now to babysit the prisoners.

Such a slight would have never bothered her before. She wouldn't have even risen to it in the past. Not against such an unworthy opponent.

But the flash of cold rage has her standing up, grabbing her wanting and torturing the fool before she could even finish registering the insult.

The rage and unconscious violence was concerning enough but it was her magic that was the most worrying.

She was stronger. She could feel it, the magic pouring out of her through her wand was uncontained and effortless. All of her life magic had been a steady stream, a healthy river that flowed out of her body, channelled through the hawthorn wood. She had always been strong, confident, healthy with her ability. But now- the magic was like a raging rapid, it felt as if a great blockage had been cleared and she was only just now realising her full potential. It ripped out of her body, uncontrolled and unconfined-it was wild, a force of nature that did as it pleased, with very little input from her.

It was exhilarating. It was pure bliss, overwhelming and devastating. Her head swam with the power, the pull of it through her body, her wand vibrating as it strained to channel the untamed magic.

Wormtail suffered greatly, taking the full brunt of her spell without any protection. She lost touch of her edges, disassociating, feeling only the energy moving through her, her body a host of something far greater.

She sighed when she felt the cool hand wrap around hers on the wand, relaxing into the press of the Dark Lord as he pushed himself behind her, wrapping himself around her. She focussed on his body, using it to ground her. She was fuzzy and he made her feel whole once more. He revelled in her magic for a moment before forcing her to end the spell.

"Pitiful as he is little one, he still has his uses." He murmured in her ear, quietly, a sentiment meant to stay between them.

She nodded, reluctantly ending the spell, still staring hatefully at the man she tortured, trying to understand what had just happened. She was tense, wired and on edge. Paranoia and rage fought for dominance and she could feel herself pulling away, falling closer to the darkness, the burning pub.

She sulked for the rest of the meeting, her place once more secure after her demonstration.

She was not surprised when he called for her to stay behind. She glared at the table, trying to ignore the man who was sitting to her right.

"You feel damaged." He said, voice surprisingly soft as he examined her closely. She could feel his eyes on her, curious and searching.

"My magic, my presence changed you. I know you feel it." He stated simply, folding his hands in front of him, calmly watching her. She had never heard him sound so calm, so patient, so curious. This curiosity was free of malice and threat- he genuinely seemed interested in her change.

"There are very few in this world who could withstand what I did to you. But I was certain you would survive and thrive.

But that means nothing to you does it little one? You just feel pain, betrayal, confusion. That is expected for people in your condition. You of course made it worse for yourself by lying to me." He scolded lightly

She bowed her head and screwed her eyes shut. Charlie. He saw it as a betrayal.

"I feel-different. Hollow, dancing dangerously with madness." she said quietly, still looking away from him, staring intently at the table.

He nodded, humming thoughfully as he gazed into the distance. "It is the price of great magic Lestrange. Power can come with a little madness. Some madness makes you stronger, it frees you from the shackles of paltry morality and shallow expectations of polite society. It is what separates the strong from the weak. Those who are unafraid to venture into the depths of madness and insanity, who dare to push the edge of what is possible, are given the greatest gifts of power.

You are strong Lestrange. Embrace the darkness, dance with the madness and take from it the power and dominance it grants you."

She frowned, afraid of his advice. She was conflicted, and filled with a few very powerful emotions that she was uncertain of. She felt-something. It was off, a strange feeling that she was sure she had never felt before.

He huffed, his eyes sparkling with amusement, his body languid as he was filled with an unusal sense of calm as they discussed her brush with insanity.

"Heartbreak Lestrange. Typically I would frown on such weakness, but in this case I will make an exception given the changes I have forced on you.

I have felt this weakness brewing in you for months. It is your family that is the root cause, your father specifically."

As he said the words she could feel the emotion swell in her chest, a sharp pain that made her gasp and clench her fists, heaving with it as it overpowered her, causing her sinuses to fill and her eyes to burn. It was an alien feeling, one of the strongest emotions she had ever felt. "Why?" she choked out.

"You have not conquered your emotions, you do not rule them as tightly as I have learned to. You suffer from the delusion of family, and your father's hatred is a rot that took hold months ago. It has finally spread enough to cause you pain. I blame myself, I should have cut this out of you a while ago, when I first became aware of it. But i hesitated Lestrange, worried about your mind. Fracturing it too quickly would make you useless, almost as useless as your father is."

She heaved once more, a sob escaping her as she felt the tightness clench in her chest. She was afriad, terrified of what was happening to her. What was he doing to her.

"For once Lestrange, I have nothing to do with this. This is the weakness that we have allowed to take root. The weakness that Dumbledore nourished in you, it was his own way of controlling you, keeping you on a leash." He leaned forward, closing the space between them as he looked at her very seriously.

"Feel it. Understand it. And kill it." His voice was low, urgent and serious. As serious as she had ever heard him.

"You believe in family. You believe in the unconditional love that families are supposed to share. It defines you, you cling to it helplessly, you crave your mother's attention, her affection. When she left you, you turned to those blood traitors, denying yourself and your true personality for a glimmer of their love. You sacrificed yourself to me to save your useless cousins _soul"_ he snarled the last word, making it sound like the most ludicrous thing in the world. "You want them to love you, you do everything for their affection, for their attention because they are _family._ " he spat the word.

"Your father hates you. No matter what you do, how much you accomplish, how you twist and turn to make yourself worthy in his eyes, he will never love you lestrange. Do you know why?"

She shook her head, her nails digging into the table as the Dark Lord drilled this into her. "Because family is meaningless."

She shuddered, feeling her heart shatter even further, her mind swimming as she felt the delicious pull of the flames from the pub, the screams and the darkness.

"You need to understand that Lestrange. Understand it and move on from it. If you want to be more, you have to kill the concept of family. There is only power, and those who are too weak to seek it. You are not weak little one." he was so close to her now, his hands curled around her face, their foreheads touching as he spoke urgently.

She felt his presence brush the edges of her mind, but he did not enter. He did not invade her. He would not interfere, he was a spectator in her misery, in her sorrow. He watched her break and he did not enjoy it as he usually did. He was solemn, serious, and intent.

Her father would never love her. She screamed in anger and frustration, yelling at the unfairness of it all, the injustice. Fathers were meant to love, family was unconditional and his dismissal of her cut deeply. She hated the power he had over her, her pitiful yearning for such an awful man to care for her, to show anything other than antipathy over her very existence.

She acknowledged her feelings, her anger, frustration and failures. She named them, felt them, wrote them against the wall of her mind, feeling their brand against her soul. She was emboldened by her failures, disgust and hatred building with every breath. She faced the list, felt them, and then killed them. With every flash of green light she felt lighter, colder, hollow. She could feel the threads sever with their death, and she could feel the hold her mind waver. Something deep in her cried in horror and anguish. She found the root of those feelings, hunting it mercilessly and killing them, eradicating it from her being.

She was cold when she resurfaced, her hands clutched tightly in the Dark Lord's, her eyes sharp and flinty. She felt different, something fundamental had shifted. Her thoughts were quiet, muted by the distant roar of flames, tormenting screams that simmered just below the surface.

She could also feel rage. It was all consuming and meaningless- not tied to any situation or circumstance. It was her core, the fire in her belly, the only warmth she could feel. The magic pooled in her, building and pushing insistently against her skin, making her itch as goose pimples erupted over her skin. It begged for release, for her to use the wild and untamed power.

She felt powerful and emotionless in the victorious eyes of the Dark Lord, shining in front of her, his teeth bared in a terrible grin.

"There she is." He breathed, his voice filled with anticipation. "Now you are perfect."

She felt nothing.

 _A/N Only a few chapters to go. Has she fully lost herself? Has she reached the full level of Trauma? This is story is getting even darker than I had originally planned, and I don't know about you, but I am loving it._

 _Reviews are always appreciated! Hope everyone has great holiday season._

 _tibys_


	22. Chapter 22: 1997

Xxx

It didn't take long for Draco to work up the courage to confront her.

It was a pitiful performance, his face pale and sweaty, his hands shaking as he tried to work himself up into an entitled and indignant rage.

"I am not weak," he started after barging past her into her house. She stared at him coolly, feeling muted about the whole situation.

He was shivering from the cold, it seemed he sat on her doorstep for a while, likely talking himself up for this confrontation.

She remained silent, rolling her eyes and closing her front door with a small click. His words and his demeanour were two different things.

To her he looked nothing but weak. Useless. She could hear the Dark Lords assessment echo across her mind. She jerked her head trying to rid his voice, his thoughts as one would an annoying insect.

"And I don't need your help. I didn't ask for it. I am a Malfoy, a man now and fully capable."

She remained silent, staring at the fuming boy, amused by the tremors going through his body. She could almost smell his fear.

"This was a ploy, a way for you to push me down and get ahead. I- I could do it you know. K-kill someone. I am loyal to the cause. I am not useless. I deserve to be here. I deserve this mark." His words and countenance were at odds. He tried to be a man, a Death Eater but all she saw was a scared child.

She let the silence drag on, finding the smallest amusement in how he stuttered, faltered at her muted reaction.

"Y-you better back off you know. Or else I'll-well-I'll come after you. Yeah- you'll have to watch your back because I'll be on you, waiting for the chance to prove myself." He tried to sound brave. He was terrified, his entitlement and lifetime of privilege warring with his survival instinct.

His whole life Draco had been protected, offered immunity because of his father. He always got what he wanted without working for it. He was reasonably bright and with Narcissa's input he was a reasonably good person fundamentally- sure he was a spoiled, prejuidiced, and annoying little shit- but he was grey enough that he found straight murder, no matter the circumstances, unpleasant and unthinkable.

Now that his father was stripped of his power and influence and he had yet to fully realise his protection was gone. When he did, it was often too late.

Luckily for him, she felt nothing towards this interaction. Emotionless, like she was a mere observer to passing circumstances.

She shrugged, turning away from him to enter her kitchen. "You can try Draco, but we both know you will fail. Why run from it?" She asked coolly, rapping her wand against the kettle.

She took a deeper than usual breath as the brief flare of magic left her wand, a small flash that had the water boiled unusually fast, even by magic standards.

Draco deflated, the fight going out of him as he sat heavily on the couch. "I am not weak," he said sounding so dejected she felt something-pulling deep in her chest. She squashed it.

"Not everyone is killer. Focus on what you are good at. Make friends who matter to you and to the cause. Be a snake like your father. And leave the fighting to the grown ups." She was cold as she said it.

"Be thankful Draco that you are not in my position," she said quietly, preparing them both cups of tea.

He accepted his tea reluctantly, his face red and his eyes trained on the ground in front of him. He was frustrated, angry and confused.

He was also a little grateful.

Xxx

As her magic grew in power so did her paranoia and fear. The Dark Lord had explained the consequences of his actions on her, but she did not truly understand it.

How could something so terrible make her more powerful? If it was simply a matter of brief but memorable and unbearable defilement, a fundamental invasion of privacy, a brush of true madness- well she imagined many more wizards would risk that for a taste of power.

Cassiopeia liked to think she understood theoretical magics on a very fundamental level. However this latest development made her realise that she understood very little about the origin of magic, and how it was tied to witches and wizards. What was it that made them so different from muggles? What dictated power?

There was precious little written on the subject, in the past she would have sought out guidance to such a complicated topic. However she did not think that Professor Flitwick would be willing to discuss this with her, and she could hardly walk into St Mungos to strike up a conversation with Lionel Spavin- her old boss and mentor.

She loathed to ask the Dark Lord, after their incident he had rather left her alone to her relief. He seemed preoccupied with something else, obsessed with some mystery or another. She really did not care what it was, in fact she was delighted he was so preoccupied. It was wonderful really- whatever it was it took his attention off of her and took him away on long research trips where no one would hear from him for days or even weeks.

She briefly considered asking Snape. He had a surprising depth of knowledge regarding dark magic, but she did not think it was in abundance to her. He was a passable curse breaker, but he lacked the innate understanding of the flow of magic that was required.

In fact, she reckoned there were few in Britain who could answer her questions- perhaps a few unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries- they would be a hassle to find though, she would have to declassify the files, find their identities- on a hope there was a specialist.

Dumbledore would have known- but he was long dead. Perhaps she could discuss it with his portrait? She dismissed that idea almost immediately- she did not want to spend unnecessary time at Hogwarts, and she would rather not discuss this with Snape- who would inevitably be a party to the conversation. If she were being honest, even in death Dumbledore still frightened her a little. It would be the very last resort to go there.

She unlocked her office door in the Ministry and slumped into her chair, staring at the pile of paperwork on her desk. Leads for missing muggleborns and wanted fugitives. Running a fascist organization was a lot of paperwork and she could feel a headache building.

Her mind wandered- how did magic work? How did it feel before her possession? It was always present, beneath her skin, tied into her will. She remembered being a child and simply wishing things in and out of existence. She hadn't felt the flow of power then, it wasn't channeled or controlled- it just was. She first felt it when she received her first wand.

How marvellous that had been- in Ollivanders shop, testing out different wands, hoping each each piece she tried would choose her. Afterall- that's what he always said- "the wand chooses the wizard".

Ollivander.

She sat up.

Ollivander might know. He was still alive- in the Malfoy Manor, in the cellar turned prison. She was down there frequently enough to look after the prisoners to know he was still alive.

She glanced at the clock. It was still early in the morning- most of the household would be asleep. She could sneak in, have a quick chat, and sneak out without anyone being the wiser.

The cellar of the Malfoy Manor was a small room, once used to house dark artefacts and expensive bottles of wine. Since the war it had been repurposed as a dungeon- a small and miserable place. There were a few inhabitants, people unlucky enough to grab the personal attention of the Dark Lord. She and Wormtail were the only two visitors to the dank place- she visited weekly, ensuring the prisoners were reasonably well kept, bathed, and as healthy as expected. She gave them food and water, had polite conversation with the few who would talk. She hoped to provide human contact that did not come with torture or interrogation. She understood what isolation could do to a human mind.

Wormtail did the daily visits- bringing them sustenance that could hardly be called food, and ensuring they were alive. These were the only people who were respected less than him, and she was sure he took great joy in lording it over the prisoners. It was pathetic, but there was very little she could do about it.

She warded the door after her just to be safe. She did not want any interruptions for this conversation.

"Mr Ollivander?" She called softly.

"Lumos" she muttered, wincing as the light flared to life with a blinding intensity. "For fucks sake," she growled, blinking away the spots in her vision.

She settled with grabbing a torch from the wall, leaning as far back as possible as a veritable fireball erupted from the end of her wand. She cursed once more, glaring at her wand. This was getting ridiculous.

"Mr Ollivander?" She called once more, approaching the corner she knew him to hide in. The only other person in the damp cellar was Mr Fortescue, the ice cream shop owner who had run afoul of the Dark Lord early on. He had been their first guest. She wasn't sure what the Dark Lord wanted with the man, but she did know it had something to do with some historical knowledge, a hobby of his.

Garrick Ollivander was leaning against a wall, his eyes squinting at the bright flames and blinking away the sleep. He looked like he had just woken up.

"Miss Lestrange." He greeted, "is it already Sunday? It feels like we just saw you a few days ago." He said, his voice sounding tired and papery.

She smiled at him. Florean Fortescue never spoke to her, he sat in the corner and watched quietly whenever she visited. But Ollivaner was always polite and receptive to company.

"Not quite Sunday sir, it is Wednesday and it is mid November. Forgive me that I do not know the exact date- didn't quite manage to glance at the calendar on my way down."

She concentrated on her magic, trying to restrain it as she conjured two simple plates of food-a ploughman's lunch- and a steaming carafe with a set of mugs. She pushed the plate over to the man, and motioned Fortescue to take one as well.

Fortescue did not move, his eyes narrowed on her. She fought the urge to roll her eyes- but she couldn't blame him. She could remember a time in her life when she refused to eat food that was offered to her. She tried to feed them fatty foods, nothing too rich or heavy. She hoped it would be enough to stave off the worst bits of starvation they faced at the hands of Wormtail.

"Would like some Coffee Mr Ollivander? Or some tea perhaps?" she asked kindly.

"A good strong cuppa will do Miss Lestrange if it is not too much trouble." he said politely, "My old bones are not what they used to be, and this cellar has a bit of a bite to it." he fished a piece of bread and slathered it in butter.

She kept up empty chatter as the man ate and drank his tea, and she was pleased to see Fortescue had reluctantly reached over to take his plate before retreating to his corner.

She told them about the weather, how it was nearly winter and it was looking to be a bitterly cold one. She shared with them what little news she could, enough stories to let them continue to have hope, and to feel some connection to the outside world.

It wasn't until he had finally eaten his fill and reclined with a fresh cuppa did Ollivander speak. "Thank you kindly Miss Lestrange. Now what do I owe in return for this kindness today?" he gave her a shrewd look and a sharp smirk.

She sighed and gave him a sheepish look in return. Ollivander was one of the few people she did not have to put on a show with. She was not the feared Left Hand of the Dark Lord, she was not the vicious Death Eater. He somehow always made her feel like a child. The same child who stood in his shop at 11 years old, eager for a wand.

"I have questions sir. Theoretical questions about magic." she started.

He nodded, "perhaps I can assist." he said, urging her to continue.

She hesitated, suddenly nervous and uncertain of herself. Where should she start? Should she remain theoretical, ask for general information? Or should she tell him how it relates to her, the specifics.

"I want to know- I guess- how does it work? With a wand? More than that-how does magic flow from a person, through a wand, into the world?"

He gave a low tired chuckle at her question, taking another sip of his tea. "My dear child, I am flattered you think I would know such things. Those are the questions us-enthusiasts let's say- have been trying to answer for centuries. To put it simply, nobody really knows."

She shook her head, refusing to accept that as an answer. "You may not know for certain Mr Ollivander, but you strike me as a very well read and obsessive man. Those questions must have propelled you into relentless study, decades of it. You make wands sir, you must have some inkling of how it works." She said, leaning forward eagerly.

Ollivander chewed on his response for a while, leaning back and staring at the ceiling as he thought of the best way to respond.

"Something happened to you." He mused, still staring up at the ceiling. "Your magic has changed, something fundamental."

She remained quiet, watching the wheels turn in his head.

"I can hear it, sense it in your magic. You and your wand are no longer in sync, there is a strain in the relationship."

"How do you know?" she asked quietly, amazed at the man's words. Was she so obvious?

He gave her another wicked smile, his eyes regaining a little of the old mischievous glint they once had. "I have spent my life with wands Miss Lestrange, learning them, understanding them, crafting them. I created your wand, I brought you together, choosing from all the thousands in my shop, the one you were best suited for. I have a remarkable aptitude at finding pairs Miss Lestrange, and understanding when things do not fit."

"You think we no longer fit?" She clutched her wand close to her, feeling a little afraid for it. She had already destroyed one, losing this one seemed unthinkable.

"Tell me what happened Miss Lestrange, and maybe I will understand enough to answer your true questions."

She curled into herself a little, pulling her legs close to her body and wrapping her arms around them. She felt suddenly afraid to tell the man, to reveal the awful thing it had happened. It wasn't like he was the first one to know, she had already told a few people. Yet somehow, telling it to a stranger seemed personal, another invasion of privacy.

But she needed answers and he was her best bet.

"Possession." Her voice was small as she said the word, hoping she would not have to explain further.

From the pale look on Ollivanders face he understood her well enough.

"You poor child." He said softly, putting his tea down with a clink, "And since then, your magic has been unstable?" He asked quietly.

She nodded.

"I can give you only theories Miss Lestrange. Explain how I visualise and understand magic- but you must understand that magic is highly personalized and variable."

She nodded once more, sighing a little as she relaxed. It was better than nothing.

"Why some people are capable of magic and others are not is a mystery to the world. Muggles and Wizards are biologically the same, and yet some of us possess the ability to channel magical force. I believe it is generated within us, acting like a functioning human system while others believe we manipulate the magic that is in the world around us. There is heated debate about what makes one more powerful than other- what factors go into that raw power and innate ability.

Wands are a conduit to that power, it taps into it and gives it a direction. Over time it creates channels, as your body adapts to using those channels, steams of power become set in stone. But a wand is not a necessary component to conducting magic- children are filled with magic and they often perform unpredictable and powerful feats while growing up. Wands are also not universally used in the world- there are many cultures, schools in the world that have no use for wands- viewing them as handicaps. Instead of relying on a conduit, they learn how to channel their own magic, control it and wield it, and bring it into the world.

But the human body can only take so much, it can be overloaded. They can be stretched beyond repair, disfigured and cracked, leading to madness and often death. We normally see this happen in times of stress, when one is forced into an extreme situation where they perform great feats of magics."

"But that is internally generated. What about external forces?" she asked quietly, her stomach flipping in anxiety.

"The body can only conduct so much power. Most die quite painful deaths, and those that survive are rarely left in a fit mental state. It is rare to meet someone who has survived so not much is known about all of the side effects of such dark magics. The magical channels can be stretched to some extent to accommodate the extra magics, but people are not meant to channel so much power. Not without causing permanent and irreparable damage to themselves."

She felt her skin itch with fear and irritation, growing impatient with the man's lecture. It was interesting of course, but it was hard to see what pertained to her exact situation. "So what does that mean for me?" She asked, trying to take deep calming breaths. She could hear the flames beckoning her into madness.

He sighed, "I imagine your magic is more powerful than ever before. But it is also likely in shorter supply than before, you will feel the effects of exhaustion must sooner and with magical exhaustion comes a tiny bit of madness that can and will grow the more you push your limits. You will need to learn to control your magic, the flow of it, to limit it and I am afraid there are few in the country who have the understanding to help teach you."

She could see the fatigue in the man's eyes, in his body language as he spoke. The conversation had taken a lot from the elderly man and he wouldn't be much more use to her now if she kept pressing. Besides she suspected he had told her all that he could.

"Meditation Miss Lestrange. That is all I can suggest. Try to understand your magic and control it. And be careful in exerting yourself." he said, slumping back against the wall and pulling his legs close to him to stave off the chill in the dungeons.

She cleaned up the remnants of their food and drink and left quickly, her mind turning with the new found information. Ollivander had told her what she feared the most, the consequences of her demand had cost her dearly, perhaps even everything.

Xxx

She scowled at the letter in her hand, her mind racing.

It was from Snape, who somehow managed to slip the missive into her robes at some point in the last two days.

Sneaky sod.

She burned the note with a sigh. She owed him two favours and it appeared he was calling in his first one.

She left their visit till late, when she was not likely to be missed at work or by her mother. It also gave her the privacy to stare at the school from the gates for longer than was strictly appropriate.

Emotions. Being at the school brought back strong emotions, ones she had been trying to deaden herself to.

She wrapped herself tighter in her cloak and started the trek up the hill to the castle. It was fully winter now and she could feel the bite in the Scottish air. The castle was asleep, the only lights coming from suspended christmas baubles as she entered through the front.

Her walk up to Snape's office was uneventful and it wasn't long before she found herself knocking at his door.

Despite the late hour Snape appeared wide awake and alert. His eyes ran over her quickly, glancing past her before he let her in. Always a careful man Snape- worried about discovery.

She slumped into a chair, her eyes flicking around his office curiously. "Couldn't find a decorator? Never took you to have the same exact tastes as Dumbledore once did." She said it cruelly, hoping to hurt the man for reasons that were a little unknown. She wanted to lash out, to get a rise out of him and this seemed like an easy way to do it.

Snape gave her a hard stare but remained silent.

The office was nearly identical to its previous inhabitant- the only difference she could see what the portrait. Dumbledore snoozing in his frame fast asleep. She stared at it for perhaps a little too long before turning back to the man who killed him.

"What can I do for you professor?" She asked finally. She did not want to be in Hogwarts, that close to a portrait of Dumbledore for longer than necessary.

"A favour. One that you owe me." He said evenly.

She nodded. leaning forward. The sooner he called those in the better she would feel. "Anything you need Professor."

"In a few days your mother is going to receive a sword to place in your vaults for safekeeping. Some parties may request to examine said sword- do not let them."

She eyed the man carefully, her thoughts racing as she took in the implications of his request. Her eyes also lingered over a display case where the sword of Gryffindor was gleaming brightly.

He was going to give them a forgery. Interesting.

"Done." It was an easy enough request, she suspected Bellatrix would not have checked the authenticity of the artefact anyways. He was being careful though, and she respected that.

He relaxed a little, though he was still giving her a searching look, looking for something. She was not a fan of the look and she sniffed, rising out of her chair, intending to leave before he could act on whatever thing he was thinking about.

"How are you?" He asked lowly, causing her to pause.

She tensed, her mind stuttering and she heard the distant roar of flames and cries of anguish echoing in her ears. "I am professor. And I must be leaving." She could feel oblivion was close, the madness was rearing its head. She was working on stabilizing her magic, but it was difficult to break lifelong habits that she was only recently becoming aware of.

Magic was like breathing, using her wand was natural, something she did without thought or care. Now she was trying to be deliberate, but it was like being aware of every breath she took, to control how much air was in her lungs at all times. She slipped, frequently, and the madness was growing. She had overdone it with the Apparition to the school and she could feel the exhaustion that was amplified by her memories.

"Something has changed in you." Snape said, causing her to pause at the door. She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath, centering herself and pulling herself away from the flames that were always beckoning, always calling her.

"I am going mad Professor. That's what has changed." she said quietly, glaring at the slight tremble in her hand as she said it. She knew it was true, but it was still hard to say aloud.

"I told you once, that I was on your side. That has not changed Lestrange."

She scoffed a little, closing her trembling hand into a fist. "The last time I asked for your help I ended up owing you two favours- one now. That is hardly being on my side." She felt the foreign feelings of rage, fiery and hot flashes as they bolted through her system and she could feel the heat from the phantom burning pub licking her skin.

She closed her eyes and took an even deeper breath. "You cant help me Snape,"

"I can't if you do not tell me what is wrong. You need allies, you have isolated yourself and someone in your position can not afford to be an island."

She gave a short laugh, "Coming from someone who has holed himself up in Hogwarts, rarely leaving his fortress. Fat lot of good you are to me." She pulled open the door and left, finding it all a little overwhelming, being in that office, in that place. She needed to go, to get out, and she feared she would suffocate or lose control if she did not.

Xx

It was late December when she finally broke with her routine. She felt a great aching chasm, a strong and terrifying emotion that filled her whole being, it made her skin crawl and it clawed up her throat until she could no longer breathe. Her heart raced and she was covered in a cold sweat and she had to get out, get away, and do something with the nervous energy that flooded her system.

She tried a few different things. She punched her heavy bags in her personal gym until her hands ached and were bruised despite the wraps and gloves she wore.

When that didn't help the overwhelming emotion she went quickly dressed in dark muggle exercise clothing from her boxing days and went to a muggle track to run without interruption or recognition. She sprinted until her legs burned and her lungs seared. She ran and she cried out through the pain and exhaustion. Eventually her legs gave out and she collapsed on the track, pounding her wounded fists into the ground as yelled until tears streamed from her eyes, blurring her view.

And still the chasm grew and her heart pounded and she couldn't breathe. She felt full of something foreign it was suffocating her. She felt as if a poison had taken root in her soul and was breaking her apart from the inside.

When it was clear exercise wasn't going to help she went to a pub. It did not take long for the spirits to go to her head and she felt the warm fuzziness begin to take hold on the edges of her consciousness. Normally the alcoholic dulling brought her peace and a numb disconnection. Unfortunately his time it dulled everything except the aching pain in her chest and the choking emotions. She slammed another shot glass to the bar as she glared at the bar keeper when he refused to fill her next one.

Not that she could hear him properly. It was like she was underwater. Everything was muffled, having to compete against the roaring flames and anguished cries that echoed in her ears.

She threw her glass with a grunt at the barman who very narrowly ducked, paling as it shattered against the wall where his head was.

"Thas'it- Out!" He yelled and she was only too happy to oblige, throwing him a rude gesture and stumbling out of the establishment.

She gasped as she walked through the cold night air. It was raining, thick heavy drops that burned her skin. Her chest ached, a shooting pain and her lungs felt like they were constricted. Was she dying? She wished she was dying, she hoped that it was finally her time. That it was a bloody heart attack.

She didn't know how she ended up there, only that she walked for what seemed to be forever in the rain on shaking legs. She didn't even realise what town she apparated to until she stood in front of the house.

She was soaked from the cold winter rain. She stood silently out front, just within the property boundary but not daring to go any closer.

She likely wasn't welcome here anymore. It was dangerous for both her and the sole inhabitant of the building to be together. There was a war going on and she was spared only by virtue of her blood.

There was a light on in the kitchen. The house was otherwise dark, devoid of the life that normally filled it.

She took a deep shuddering breath, feeling the emotion overwhelm her.

She didn't know how long she stood there, staring at the house where she spent half of her life. She had been happy here, in the Tonks household. It hadn't been easy and she had been a difficult kid, but she was loved unconditionally here. Andromeda and Ted had shown her that time and time again, even if she had been thick headed about it.

The door opened and she sighed as warm arms wrapped around her frigid shoulders gently leading her into the house.

Even now, despite the risks, Andromeda still welcomed her home.

She broke, surrendering to the emotion just as Andromeda led her to the couch. She clung to the woman, the woman who was so much like her mother in appearance, and yet so fundamentally different. Through her tears she could pretend the warm loving creature before her really was Bellatrix.

She curled up next to Andromeda like a child and clung to the woman who remained silent through the breakdown. Andromeda petted her hair, her shoulders, her back, reassuring the girl that she was there, she was present.

She was exhausted by the time her tears dried and her sobs silenced, relieved that the emotion had been alleviated at least enough to breath. She didn't move though, relishing the warmth and unconditional acceptance Andromeda gave her.

It was late, the middle of the night. Her aunt must be exhausted. But she made no move kicking her out. She remained present.

"Why couldn't she be more like you?" Cassiopeia asked quietly, snuggling closer to her aunt.

Andromeda sighed, tightening her grip on the girl. "I fell in love with a remarkable man and he has a way of showing people a better, kinder world." She felt the older woman shrug and sigh. Ted was out in the world, alone and in danger. It was raining and she hoped he was somewhere dry and warm.

Andromeda did not ask, but Cassiopeia could not hold it back any longer. She was vulnerable, empty and confused. She had tried to do what the Dark Lord commanded, to crush her weakness, to be strong. But in the end, she caved and told her everything.

Andromeda remained silent as she listened to her story. About Draco and how he was too pure to kill. How she tried to protect him and the price she had to pay. She told her about the madness, how she could feel it beckoning, always at the edge of her mind and the changes to her magic. She spoke about her conversation with Ollivander. She told her about the awful things she had tried to do at the Dark Lord's behest. Her attempt to kill her weakness, finish it and the weeks of numbness that followed.

"I wish that I could spare you Cassiopeia. I wish that you were mine." It was said sincerely but it left her feeling hollow and alone.

Wishing did them no good in war. It did not change reality.

"I am trying to protect him you know, Ted." She felt Andromeda stiffen, showing the first bit of unease during her visit.

"I put a bounty on him, he is to be brought to me alive and unharmed. I employ only the most incompetent Andromeda. You have to believe me, I am doing all that I can to protect him."

She nodded, holding the girl closer, "I do believe you Cass, I believe you are trying your best."

"You should have gone to Marseille. Both of you." She tried to not make it an accusation.

"Ted refused, not while his daughters were on the front line. He is trying to help in the ways he can."

She felt a little warmth at her words, enough to cut through her irritation with the man. Daughters. It was plural.

"I didn't know. I hope you know that, they kept it from me that they brought you in for questioning. I fired the clerk who hid it from me. If I had known- I would have stopped it, or at least mitigated it."

"I know." was all Andromeda said.

Andromeda had been brought in shortly after Ted disappeared for questioning. The woman, Umbridge, who led the questioning had tortured Andromeda. If she could get away with it, she would've killed Umbridge then and there when she found out. But not even she was that powerful to make a strike against a staunch ally of the new regime. Not yet at least.

Cassiopeia did not find out about it until very recently. She couldn't hurt Umbridge but she did hurt the clerk who had hidden it from her at Umbridge's behalf. It was moments like those where she felt the most hopeless, what use was she if she couldn't even save the people she loved the most?

"I have to go now. It's dangerous and i've been gone for too long." She said, reluctantly pulling away from the woman, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. It was a balm being back home.

"Have you seen your sister?" She asked, clutching onto the girls hand.

Cassiopeia shook her head, "is everything alright?" she asked, feeling suddenly afraid for Dora. Had she missed something else? She had also put a bounty of Dora's head to be delivered to her directly, alive.

Andromeda smiled warmly, squeezing her shoulder. "You should see her, I will tell her to send you her location. She isn't up for much travel these days."

"She isnt- are you sure she is alright?" she asked, feeling a flash of concern. What could be wrong that she wasn't up for travel.

"Trust me. Keep an eye out, I will tell her to reach out."

They hugged once more, Cassiopeia clutching the woman tightly. "I love you Andromeda."

"And I love you Cassiopeia. Stay strong and stay safe."

Xxx

She didn't see her sister until Christmas, months after their last meeting after her possession.

Her visit with Andromeda during her minor mental break down chased away most of her shadows temporarily but she could feel them creeping in. When one was totally surrounded in a den of snakes, it was hard to feel anything positive for long.

It wasn't Dora who reached out to her but her former solicitor and friend Mira Lima who left her the address during one of their intelligence drops. She was heartened to know at least Dora seemed holed up in a stable safe house, and was involved with Lima's freedom network.

It was Christmas Eve when she visited. The Dark Lord had been out of the country and unreachable for a week, and he had warned them he wouldn't be back until the new year. Narcissa was busy planning the Christmas Day celebrations and her Mother was helping Narcissa. Her absence would go unnoticed so long as she was back in time for the party on the following day.

She had nipped into the muggle world and bought Dora a few presents, some records from new Muggle bands she thought she would enjoy, and her favourite sweets. She also bought them each a bottle of mulled wine to share.

Seeing Dora froze her in her steps in shock. More specifically, it was her protruding belly that made her stop.

She was struck by the strong jolts of emotion that ran through her. Love and rage. Fierce protectiveness and awe all fought for dominance as she hesitantly reached out to touch Dora's hand.

In that moment she was struck with an epiphany, a realisation so powerful she almost collapsed under its weight. The Dark Lord had been wrong when he told her about family, when he told her about her weakness. This wasn't weakness, this was strength. Purpose. It was her reason to stay alive, to fight and sabotage, to hope for a better world. A world that was worthy of her niece or nephew.

She had never met this child but she was already in love with it.

"I guess I will have to drink both of these bottles." She said lamely, holding up the wine. Dora laughed and pulled her inside quickly.

"When is it due?" she asked, helping her sister sit on a shabby couch. They were in a house in the countryside, not far outside of a medium sized muggle village in Yorkshire. It wasn't a Lestrange property but one she suspected was purchased with Lestrange money.

"He is due late March or Early April." She said, wrapping an arm around her belly, smiling wistfully.

He. She was going to have a nephew.

"And where is that husband of yours? You shouldn't be up and about in this condition." She scolded lightly setting her presents aside.

She wasn't expecting the tears that followed and she felt a flash of anger. Who dared hurt this remarkable woman? This mother? The rage grew as the story came out. The father apparently who had left her alone, to fight he said but she saw what it was. Cowardice.

She loved this child as fiercely as she hated her husband. She would never forgive the Wolf for abandoning Dora, in the middle of a war no less, when he found out the news.

She stayed for longer than she should have, fussing over her sister, trying to cheer her up and going over her plans, committing them to memory. She needed to ensure she was safe, protected and away from her Snatchers. Especially since she refused to leave the country and only reluctantly took a step back from the front line.

"And who is helping with the birth? You can't very well walk into St Mungos in that condition, not as a wanted woman" She asked, handing Dora another cup of herbal tea.

"Molly will help, she comes around almost daily to check up on me. And mum of course is here as well. I never thought a woman could fuss more than her, but you appear to be even worse Cass. It's an interesting look on you." She teased lightly.

Cassiopeia huffed, smiling as she adjusted a pillow for Dora and took the cup of tea out of her hand so she wouldn't have to reach.

"Well somebody has to look after you. I will find you a healer, someone we can trust to help with the delivery. Perhaps Theo." she mused.

Cassiopeia was plotting as she tended to Dora, already formulating plans in how she could visit, how she could help, which healers could be on hand for the delivery, and how she could hurt her no good husband without upsetting Dora too badly.

"I think your mate Lima has someone in mind. A muggle born who is on the run, she was a trainee healer who went into hiding. She apparently helps with any injuries that come up in their line of work."

Cassiopeia ran through her mental list of fugitives. She knew of the girl, hardly out of Hogwarts. "I would feel better if you were in the hands of someone a little more qualified than a trainee. I am sure she is adequate at patching up war wounds, but childbirth is another thing entirely."

"Don't worry Cass. I am in good hands, and I will somehow grow even bigger." she frowned down at her growing belly.

"You shouldnt be alone Dora." She said softly.

"I am not, Molly and Mum are brilliant. And you can visit me whenever you like. It's not like I am moving around very much." she said

"Go to one of my houses across the Channel. I can arrange it for you, get you the right papers and you can disguise yourself. Please." She knew she would never leave, but she had to at least try.

She was already shaking her head before she even finished talking. "I can't leave Cass, not while Remus is out there fighting, not while all my friends and family are at risk.

She tried to tamp down her frustration. She wished more people used her bloody safe houses across the channel. At least she knew the location of her current safe house. She would be able to direct her men around it, minimise the risk of detection. She could help keep her safe.

They said their goodbyes reluctantly with Cassiopeia promising to visit whenever she could.

It wasn't long after leaving did she hear the news.

Harry Potter had escaped a trap in Godric's Hollow and the Dark Lord was back from his travels and he was livid.

Narcissa's Christmas party was subdued as the Dark Lord ranted and raged in the periphery. Everyone in the household retired early except for Bellatrix, who put herself into the path of him, trying to soothe him in any way that she could.

She did manage to steal away to the Cellar with some leftovers and a spot of wine for the Manor's inhabitants. A Hogwarts student, a sixth year girl, was their latest guest. She was a queer girl, but she seemed to be handling her capture fairly well, likely because she wasn't there for any particular interrogation use. She was collateral, a bargaining chip to control her father who was printing unfavourable stories about the government.

Boxing day was an even more uncomfortable affair- an obligatory office party for her Snatchers and Watchers. It was well attended by those who were not on active duty and by a fair amount of Death Eaters mainly because of the copious amounts of free alcohol that was available. Her employees were the dregs of society, but they could be easily swayed with booze.

Cassiopeia's plan was to stay for as long as was required of her, enough to say her hellos and shake hands. But she was keen to slip away and perhaps visit Dora for a bit.

She was forced to change her plan as she met the first of the wives of her soldiers. Women who were meek and obedient, who wore long gloves and very careful makeup tastefully covering up the faintest hints of bruises.

She recognised the body language and the fear as they watched their husbands drink, the careful way they spoke and interacted with others. And the way the wives came together, sheltering each other, looking after one another.

It disgusted her and she wandered over to the group of women who were hanging off to a corner where they all were enjoying their reprieve.

The women quieted as Cassiopeia approached, most averting their gazes and pulling in on themselves. She narrowed in on one woman in particular. She seemed stronger than the others, a leader amongst the wives, someone whose spirit wasn't quite shattered.

"I don't think we've been formally introduced. I am Cassiopeia," She omitted her last name, holding out her hand to the brave woman who dared to meet her eyes.

"Madam Lestrange, I don't believe so. I am Leonora Simmons, you work with my husband Anthony Simmons." She was amused when the woman addressed her formally and she shook her hand warmly, trying to come off as open and inviting to the women around them.

"And who are your friends? And please, no need to be so formal. Cassiopeia will do." Leonora led the introductions and Cassiopeia examined each woman critically, noting their carefully hidden injuries, their habits, and connecting it to their husbands. She was also alarmed at how young most of the women were, all around her age or younger and married to brutish men whom were some 20 or in one case 30 years their senior.

She was kind to the women, careful to remain open and non threatening. She held banal small talk that she normally found so boring, and tried to lure the women in with pleasantness. When they tried to regurgitate the government held propaganda to her, she would politely change the subject. She wasn't curious about what these women thought they should say, she was curious about their lives.

It took some time but she would casually remark on a small bruise every now and then, one that would become exposed. She feigned ignorance, pretending to believe the stuttered excuses and would quickly change the subject to something lighter when a woman started to become too flustered. Leonora caught on to her quickly and she hovered, standing protectively near some of them and changing the subject herself a few times to interrupt Cassiopeia's sly questioning.

It was a dance that continued for most of the night, a careful back and forth and soon she had won most of them over at least a little. They were warily optimistic about her, or at least no longer openly afraid of her which was a move in the right direction.

"Oh, I can't tell you how nice it is to speak to other women. It's such a boys club around here and they can be so droll. If I had known they were hiding such wonderful wives I would have insisted on meeting you lot earlier. We should get together, my aunt Narcissa knows the most wonderful brunch place in Diagon Alley. We should make this a thing, get together, have some girl time." She smiled widely, her face aching and she was inwardly cringing. The last thing she wanted to do was to have girl time, but these women needed her help.

The women were quiet, each glancing at each other, unwilling to be the first to reply. Her smile didn't budge when she saw a few clutched each other subtlely and wilt away. Instead it sharpened as she turned to see what had given the group of women the reaction.

"Ah Simmons and Harris. You never told me you had such wonderful wives." She bantered with them good naturedly. Both men looked uncertain, torn between anger at their wives for daring to interact with their boss, and unease at the possibility of being embarrassed.

"They are pleasant." Harris said uncertainly.

"Indeed, I was just saying how I would like to make this a more common occurrence, talking to your wives. I just love getting to know them." She said this loudly, getting the attention of a few others who were nearby who paused what they were doing to look at the scene.

"Oh well you know, my Leonora is a very busy woman Madam, I am not sure she could fit more into her schedule." Simmons challenged her stepping a little closer to her. He was feeling threatened and was acting in the only way he knew how- with intimidation.

She could see Leonora, the bravest of the women shrink under the gaze of her husband, her face flaming with embarrassment.

She took a step closer to Simmons, entering into his personal space and meeting his challenge head on. "Nonsense," she delicately picked at his uniform, plucking a non existent piece of lint off of his robes, "we are already becoming fast friends, and I am sure you can take over a little bit of her work. I can arrange your schedule so you can help out at home more. If she is too busy to meet up with friends, then I do believe you are overworking her. You should take better care of your wife Simmons." She said pleasantly, her tone edged with a warning.

"I will have a chat with her after this then mum." He bit out coldly, glaring at his wife who wilted further.

"Your wife is my friend now Simmons. And I care for the well being of my friends. If I hear one word, or see any signs of neglect- well I will be forced to intervene." She curled her fist in his robes, jerking him forward so she could whisper the threat lowly in his ear. She pushed him back and patted his shoulder roughly, a smirk firmly in place. "Do we have an understanding?"

The man was furious, she could see that. He wanted to hit her, and she watched in amusement as his hand curled into a fist. She hoped he did hit her, she would take great joy in battering this man. He was saved by his friend, another man whose wife was in the group behind her putting a hand on his shoulder. The man gave her a deadly stare but muttered in his friend's ear, "it's not worth it mate."

"Listen to your friend. We wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself." she said lowly, still smirking at him.

That pushed him over the edge and he swung at her, the alcohol clouding his better judgement and she nearly whooped, grabbing his wrist and twisting him around using his arm as leverage. "You bleeding cunt" he yelled, struggling beneath her.

She tutted loudly, before looking catching Leonora's wide terrified eyes.

"Such language to your superior officer. I think I'll teach your wife this move Simmons," She drawled before twisting his arm a little more until she felt the satisfying pop of his shoulder being dislocated. She let go of him when his cry of anger turned into a high pitched scream and he dropped to the ground heavily.

She stepped over him, kicking him a little as she approached his wife who stared at the scene in horror. "It isn't much really, you don't even need to be particularly strong. It's all about leverage." She smiled at the wives who were staring at her with a mix of admiration and terror, all of their faces pale.

The party was now silent except for the cries coming from Simmons and Cassiopeia's good natured conversation with the women.

"So how does Sunday work for everyone? I am thinking perhaps 10:30 but can be persuaded for 11. I know just the place."

The party ended shortly after that, when she wrestled the acceptance of a weekly meet up with the battered women. She felt her warning was heard throughout her men, but they were idiots, so she would be watching. Waiting for one of them to make a mistake and lay their hand on their wives.

She spent the rest of the evening at Dora's house, recounting the story of her night and listening to Dora complain about all of the inconveniences of pregnancy.

Xxx

She was lounging on Dora's sofa, flipping through a book the day before New Years Eve. She found that being near Dora and her son helped chase the darkness away. While she was there she could almost forget the madness that lingered at the edges of her mind. She could pretend that all was well and that they were not in the middle of a war.

Dora didn't mind the company. Despite Andromeda's and Mrs Weasley's best efforts, neither woman could sneak away for too long without drawing suspicion. She had Watchers observing the Wealseys and she could not guarantee the Dark Lord or Bellatrix had not placed anyone on Andromeda without her knowledge. When it came to family, neither of them truly trusted her enough to know any details. She found it offensive truthfully. After everything she had done for the Death Eaters, she found it ridiculous they thought she couldn't be trusted. They weren't wrong of course, she definitely could not be trusted, but she really had not given them any reason to believe that.

Dora was dozing off on the opposite couch, her head lolling to the side, her own book loosely held in her hand, dangerously close to slipping to the ground. She sighed, tossing her own book aside and went to look over the shelves for something to do. She was bored, unwilling to go back to reality, and she felt that Dora needed all the sleep she could get.

She wished she were a better cook, then perhaps she could use this time to prepare a meal. Instead she looked over some board games and puzzles that she was gifted over Christmas, wondering if any were interesting enough to play when she woke up.

She jumped when she heard the front door open and spun around, her wand up and her eyes wide. There was a loud clatter as bags were dropped and she was faced with Molly Weasley whose lips were pursed, eyes narrowed as she pointed her own wand at Cassiopeia.

Neither woman moved, each uncertain of the others' motives.

The sound woke Dora up with a start and she quickly sat up to take in the scene. "Oh-hullo Molly," She muttered, her voice still filled with sleep.

"Alright there Tonks?" She asked cautiously, moving slowly into the house fully, nudging the bags out of the doorway so she could kick the door closed.

"Course," She yawned and stretched out on the couch, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the arm. She was already starting to fall back asleep.

Cassiopeia flipped her wand up, raising her hands in surrender hoping to placate the Weasley woman who was giving her a deadly stare. Molly was a terrifying woman, possibly one of the most terrifying people she had ever seen.

"It's alright Molly. I mean no one any harm. I am just here to see Dora." She slowly put her wand away. She was disheartened to see Molly's did not waver.

"And how can we trust you?" Molly hissed, her eyes narrowed.

Her face twitched, the question landing with a sting of pain. She wasn't wrong though, Cassiopeia had done very little to show she could be trusted. "I reckon there isn't much I can do to prove that you can Molly. You have to believe me." She said, understanding very keenly she wasn't giving her much to go on.

Dora grumbled, reluctantly opening her eyes to look at the scene properly. "Oh for Merlin's sake Molly, Cass is fine, I invited her here." she crossed her arms and tried to snuggle deeper into the sofa.

"Dora, if you're that tired perhaps you should go to bed." She said softly, finally taking her eyes off Molly and her wand.

"You go to bed." She retorted irritably, turning her head into a throw pillow.

"Your-She is right, if you are tired you should be resting in bed. Come, let's get you there and then I can put away the groceries and put together a meal for you when you wake up." Molly's voice was soft as she turned her attention to Dora, finally lowering her wand.

Cassiopeia stayed back as Molly fussed over the girl, feeling awkward and split between staying to allay her fears or leaving to make her more comfortable.

She was still hovering uncomfortably, torn between her options when Molly returned from putting Dora to bed for a midday nap.

The women stared at each other, Cassiopeia desperate and Molly wary. "I really do mean no harm." she said softly.

"For now." she said sharply, glaring at her. "Until you receive orders." she sniffed, putting away the groceries she purchased for the cottage with more force than necessary.

"It's not like that Molly. I am trying." She said helplessly, knowing that there was really nothing she could say to convince the woman.

"Tell that to Ottery St Catchpole. We watched it burn, helpless as dozens of Muggles were murdered by you. Nothing was left of the high street by the time you were done with it." Her voice was murderous as she spoke.

Cassiopeia paled as she listened to the woman talk. She had tried to repress the memories it brought back, the roars of the flames, the cries of the muggle around her. She could feel the madness pressing once more against the edges of her consciousness.

She opened her mouth to say something, anything to make the woman understand the horror of that night when a sharp burning pain flared on her arm. She hissed, clutching it angrily.

If possible Molly's look turned even darker. "Better get going, your master is calling." She said cruelly.

"Molly- please"

"No. She may trust you but I don't. I am watching you Lestrange, closely and if you dare harm a hair on that precious girls head, then I will personally see to you." Molly's voice was cold and serious and Cassiopeia knew then that Molly could do it. If she thought Cassiopeia was a danger to her family, she would kill her.

"I'm sorry Molly. I hope one day you can believe that," she said sadly before disapparating away to her summons.

She gasped as she stood outside of a house that was decidedly not the Malfoy Manor. She took a moment to compose herself, wrangle her emotions under control before summoning her mask. She followed the sounds of shouting and questioning, sighing deeply.

She walked into the house, the front door wide open into a perfectly round, brightly coloured kitchen. She followed the voices upstairs to a workroom and saw two Death Eaters questioning an older man with shoulder length grey hair and mismatched robes. He was doubled over as one of the Death Eaters, Travers, tortured him.

"What's the story." She growled, glaring at both Travers and Selwyn, the other Death Eater.

"This'n reckons Harry Potter was here. But he ent here no more is he?" He snarled at the man, shooting another stinging hex at him.

Cassiopeia's blood ran cool. That was two Harry Potter sightings in the last few days and she wondered if it meant something. She looked around the building, it looked like a printing press of some sort and half of the room was collapsed on itself, some spell gone wrong it seemed.

She ignored the two Death Eaters questioning the man, who clearly remembered nothing. They reckoned he was lying, but she suspected something else had happened.

Memory charms were not difficult to perform, and the Granger girl, the muggleborn one, was clever. Her own parents seemed to vanish completely, up and moving to another country as far as she could tell without any mention of a daughter. The work of a memory charm surely.

This was the man whose daughter was being held for collateral at the manor. Perhaps he had tried to save his daughter by capturing Potter- but was outweasled by the boy and his friends. They were a slippery bunch indeed.

She cast a human revealing charm confirming her suspicions. There had been three people here outside of the present company.

"Potter was here." she said sharply cutting off the questioning. "No point in talking to him, his mind has been wiped. Just- get him out of my sight." She sighed pinching the bridge of her nose. She would need to tell the Dark Lord, and she dreaded his reaction, especially after the Christmas Eve debacle.

The longer she waited the angrier he would be, and after ensuring the boys were briefed on their next steps- bringing the man to Azkaban, she left them to deliver the bad news.

Xxx

 _a/n Happy New Years etc etc. I am still alive I promise. I really struggled with this chapter, re writing parts of it three times and I still am not sure I completely like it, but hey ho here we are. Being put through the mental strain, the constant darkness, the hostile environments, and recovering from a total violation like possession would lead anyone to being a little unstable and mad. Cassiopeia is trying to do less magic here, relying more on physical action for two reasons- one I think she just finds it more satisfying, fueling a little of the blood lust that was always there with her, and two it is less terrifying. After talking to Ollivander she is confused and wary- desperate to remain sane and to keep herself from losing herself entirely. We see a whole panic attack, a small mental breakdown that could have ended differently if she had not subconsciously sought help. Seeing Dora is really what gives her energy though, hope and something solid to focus on. A reason to continue that she was beginning to lack._

 _Sorry about the last update chapter mix up. I tend to post this as soon as I finish writing, then like the next day I proof read it on my phone (which always leads to me catching errors I glossed over while proof reading on my computer) and then editing them and sending out an updated chapter. I mustve pressed the wrong button and overwrote a chapter- it should be fixed now._

 _Hope you enjoyed and as always comments and reviews are appreciated!_


	23. Chapter 23: Captured

Ted tonks was dead.

Her vision narrowed and sound faded away as her dull roar filled her mind. Rage, cold and relentless, wrestled for space with an overwhelming wave of grief paired with shock.

She couldn't think. She didn't think as she killed the lot of them. Punishing the messenger as well as the guilty parties.

She trembled as the madness reared its head, beckoning her into the abyss. It whispered to her sweet words of revenge, of ways she could kill everyone if she just gave in. It wouldn't right the crime for nothing could make up for such a worldly loss. The world was out of balance and hollow without a soul like Ted Tonks.

She had told them, warned them about Ted. She had offered a sizable bounty for the man alive. She had done all she could to protect him.

It was all for naught.

Ted Tonks was dead and it was her fault.

They had buried him in a pit with the others. Disposed carelessly as if he wasn't a human being. But that was it wasn't it? Ted wasn't seen as a human. He was a muggle born. Sub wizard, sub human.

She clawed at the freshly turned Earth, dogging him up to see for herself.

Maybe they were wrong? Maybe it was another man who had died?

Her vision blurred with tears and she choked on her sobs, her whole body heaving with the force of her sorrow.

It was her fault. All her fault. The thoughts bounced around her head. Your fault. Your fault. You killed him.

She had given up direct oversight of the snatchers. They were under Greyback now. She gave him orders, he was her delegation- enforced by the Dark Lords wishes. As their influence on the government grew, so did her responsibilities. She couldn't oversee every search, every raid, and every trial. She couldn't maintain control over the Watchers and Snatchers, not while doing the training, interrogations, and intelligence briefings and all of that was after she completed whatever task the Dark Lord charged her with. She had to delegate. It was the only way to remain in charge.

But now Ted Tonks was dead.

She stumbled back when she uncovered him. It had been a quick death she had been told. Just like his murderer's death had been.

She had been too kind to his murderer. She should have dragged it out, caused him as much pain as she could, made him realise just what a mistake he had made.

Instead she killed him quickly. Her shock and rage overtaking her so fully and completely that it was the only action she could take.

She couldn't leave him here. He deserved so much more than an unmarked grave.

It was late when she apparated to the Tonks household, covered in dirt and filth from her activities. The tears had dried and she felt numb, hollow as she stared at the doorway.

How could she tell Andromeda? Or Merlin, Dora about her father? How could she face them after such a failure?

She said she could protect him. It was her fault he was dead.

She broke down again when Andromeda answered the door, leaning against the wall for support as she choked out the words.

"It's Ted," was all she managed to get out before Andromeda joined her in her misery.

She braced herself for the accusations, for the blame and suspicion. Instead Andromeda pulled her close, squeezing her so tightly she felt it hard to breathe.

"Dora," andromeda breathed, wrestling with her emotions to regain some composure. Cassiopeia was struck by the image, the way Andromeda so carefully handled her grief. She had seen the same composure in Narcissa. In her own mother. An inner strength, bolts of steel in their personalities that existed to handle strong emotions such as grief.

Narcissa relied on it a lot these days. To deal with the overwhelming pressure of the Dark Lord as a house guest. This wasn't Andromeda Tonks. This was a Black sister taking charge.

She took them both to Dora, she broke the news to her daughter and held her as she cried. She stayed strong when the girls wavered, she supported her very pregnant daughter as she sobbed and offered comfort when she realised her child, her son would never meet their grandfather.

She organised the burial. Choosing a spot that night in a local church yard. They buried him together, the three women, each silent as they worked. Andromeda conjured up the grave stone.

Edward Tonks

1953-1998

Your love will light the way, your memory will be forever with us.

The three stood silently, Andromeda rigid as she looked at her handy work, her throat clenched and lips pursed as she tried to remain strong for her two daughters. Dora was clutching her mother's arm, threatening to collapse under her own weight in grief. Cassiopeia was numb, silent and apart from these proceedings.

She was supposed to protect him. She had failed.

Ted was the most remarkable human being she had ever known. When others recoiled from her with fear or doubt, Ted was always there. He had never given up on her, never lost faith. He had always seen through her moods, broke through her defences and loved her so wholly and unconditionally.

She remembered her first night in the house as a child. How she had a nightmare and shunned her aunt. Ted sat with her. He took her to the arcade the next day, pretending as if nothing had happened at all. His existence proved her mother wrong, Muggleborns were not lesser because there was no one more exceptional than Ted Tonks.

He taught her how to ride a bike, he went looking for her when she ran away, he gave her his bloody name.

And she had let him die.

"Who was it?" Dora finally asked quietly.

"A nobody recruit. He's gone now." Cassiopeia responded.

"Good." Was all she said before wrapping an arm around her. "Good." She breathed.

It was all her fault and despite that her family still accepted her. That was the legacy of Ted Tonks. He had shown them all that she was somehow worthy of love even when she didn't feel like it.

Even when she let him die.

Xxx

It was a week before she was able to show her face again.

Lupin heard the news and had returned to his very pregnant wife. She pretended he didn't exist when she visited. Bloody coward.

They moved Dora to a different place, an old Black family property that was suitably large and right under the nose of the remaining Black sisters. Cassiopeia knew well enough that family properties were the least of the concerns for her mother and Narcissa. The Dark Lord rarely called on her these days, he hardly seemed to be in the country even. His war machine was seemingly unstoppable and he was on some personal quest for knowledge and power. Or so she presumed.

She was reminded again at the mark Ted left on the world in the form of his daughter. Her loyalty and familial love as she was asked to be her son's godmother.

Lupin glowered through the whole offer, staring at her suspiciously. She could hear Molly Weasley in the kitchen, slamming pans around to display her disapproval at her choice. But Dora was not to be swayed and Cassiopeia took her duty very seriously.

She would die for this child. More than anything or anyone else in the world, the continuation of the Tonks line was important. Cassiopeia came from the world of old blood, where lineage was important. Ted Tonks was dead but his legacy would live on in Dora and her child. It had to.

She swore solemnly, on her magic and her life, that she would protect this child. An oath that stunned even Molly Weasley who had been eavesdropping on the affair.

She wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

It was the very next day her oath was put to the test.

She had been having her weekly tea with Ollivander and Luna, the two prisoners in the Malfoy cellar when she was interrupted by a very terrified Draco- her mother was summoning her. He hovered at the top of the makeshift dungeon stairs, calling her to the drawing room.

She frowned, taking a moment to numb herself to her recent grief and tried to project a confident air. She dismissed the food back to the kitchens and with a small nod to Ollivander left to see what her mother could want.

"Mother," she bowed her head a little as she entered the room, already tensing for a curse coming her way. Bellatrix was hard to judge and being summoned was rarely a reward.

"Cassie- look," she hissed, her eyes wild and her movements erratic. She was excited and that generally meant disaster. The prisoners and Catchers that were present served to underline her assumptions.

"Come, closer- closer. It's the mudblood Granger. And here- Weasley."

Her stomach dropped as she looked at the group in front of her. It was Ron and his friend. And if they were there, then that meant—"Potter," her voice wavered as her eyes widened with the realisation.

The boy's face was inflated, swollen and beet red. He wore no glasses, and she could only make out the tiniest smudge across his forehead.

It had to be him. And if it was, then the war was all but over.

"This could be anyone," she breathed, clenching her fists to contain their shaking

She doubled over in pain as her mother sent a swift curse at her, knocking the breath from her lungs.

"Cassiopeia is right. We must be sure Bella." She heard Narcissa say calmly, coldly

Cassiopeia coughed, squeezing her eyes shut as her mind raced for a way out of this situation. It couldn't end like this, not here. Not now.

They were arguing about summoning the Dark Lord, the desperate gleam in Lucius's eyes rivalling the mad fanaticism of his sister in law

"I was about to call him!" said Lucius, and his hand actually closed upon Bellatrix's wrist, preventing her from touching the Mark. "I shall summon him, Bella, Potter has been brought to my house, and it is therefore upon my authority —"

"Your authority!" she sneered, attempting to wrench her hand from his grasp. "You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius! How dare you! Take your hands off me!"

"This is nothing to do with you, you did not capture the boy —"

"Begging your pardon, Mr. Malfoy," interjected Greyback, "but it's us that caught Potter, and it's us that'll be claiming the gold —"

"Gold!" laughed Bellatrix, still attempting to throw off her brother-in-law, her free hand groping in her pocket for her wand. "Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his — of —" She trailed off, something grabbing her attention.

Cassiopeia was cold as the argument continued, her mind racing. There was no way-no way where this ended well. She had no way of rescuing Potter.

Bellatrix went so quiet and still Cassiopeia was briefly worried Lucius had cursed her. Gleeful at her apparent surrender, Lucius threw her hand from him and ripped up his own sleeve, ready to summon their lord, ready to end the war.

"STOP!" shrieked Bellatrix. "Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!"

The room went silent at her proclamation, Malfoy's index finger hovering over his own Mark. Cassiopeia's heart sank when she saw what caught her mother's eye. Snape- the bloody idiot.

"What is that?" She said dangerously.

"Sword," grunted the Snatcher.

"Give it to me."

"It's not yorn, missus, it's mine, I reckon I found it." There was a bang and a flash of red light as she cursed the man. The man was lucky she was distracted- it was likely the only reason he was still alive.

There was a roar of anger from his fellows: Scabior, one of the Catchers drew his wand. "What d'you think you're playing at, woman?"

Cassiopeia drew her wand, intercepting one of the curses going towards her mother and knocking her attacker back.

Bellatrix finished the rest, stunning the lot of them. They fell where they stood, all except Greyback, who had been forced into a kneeling position, his arms outstretched.

She stayed back as she watched her mother approach Greyback, the Sword of Gryffindor tightly in hand. The sword Cassiopeia knew to be fake. The one she had ensured wasn't inspected.

"Where did you get this sword?" she whispered to Greyback as she pulled his wand out of his unresisting grip.

"How dare you?" he snarled, his mouth the only thing that could move as he was forced to gaze up at her. He bared his pointed teeth. "Release me, woman!"

"Where did you find this sword?" she repeated, brandishing it in his face. "Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!"

"It was in their tent," rasped Greyback.

"Release me, I say!" She waved her wand, and the werewolf sprang to his feet, but appeared too wary to approach her. He prowled behind an armchair, his filthy curved nails clutching its back.

"Draco, move this scum outside," said Bellatrix, indicating the unconscious men. "If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them to Cassiopeia." She sneered at her nephew.

"Don't you dare speak to Draco like —" said Narcissa furiously, but Bellatrix screamed, "Be quiet! The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem!" She stood, panting slightly, looking down at the sword, examining its hilt. Cassiopeia held her breath, trying to find any way to turn this situation around.

"Mum, whatever it is, say the word and I'll fix it. I've still got connections in Gringotts." She said, her palms up in surrender.

She was rewarded with a quick snarl and a sharp stinging hex thrown at her. She dismissed her daughter as if she had never spoken and to look at the silent prisoners.

"If it is indeed Potter, he must not be harmed," she muttered, more to herself than to the others. "The Dark Lord wishes to dispose of Potter himself. . . . But if he finds out . . . I must . . . I must know. . . ." She turned back to her sister again.

"The prisoners must be placed in the cellar, while I think what to do!"

"This is my house, Bella, you don't give orders in my —" Lucius interjected, beet red with indignation.

"Do it! You have no idea of the danger we are in!" shrieked Bellatrix. She looked frightening, mad; a thin stream of fire issued from her wand and burned a hole in the carpet.

Narcissa hesitated for a moment, then addressed the werewolf. "Leave us Greyback. Cassiopeia take these prisoners to the cellar and fetch wormtail "

Greyback glowered at his orders and he looked like he was wavering between challenging Bellatrix or accepting his fate. "On whose authority do you make demands," he said jutting out his chin, challenging Narcissa.

Cassiopeia stepped forward, her wand clutched in her hand, emitting warning sparks "On mine. That's an order Greyback."

He eyed her carefully before deflating with a huff. "Fine but this isn't over Lestrange" he growled before leaving.

"Wait," said Bellatrix sharply. "All except . . . except for the Mudblood."

"No!" shouted Ron. "You can have me, keep me!" Bellatrix hit him across the face; the blow echoed around the room.

"If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next," she said. "Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs, Cassie, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them —yet" Cassiopeia swallowed and nodded, readjusting the grip on her wand. Bellatrix took a short silver knife from under her robes and cut Hermione free from the other prisoners, then dragged her by the hair into the middle of the room.

Cassiopeia gritted her teeth and shuffled the group along. She ushered them with her wand, down into the dark cellar, her mind still racing with a way to make this situation less disastrous.

Ron rushed at her the second they were down in the cellar, his face bright red with rage, his hands still tied behind his back. She tutted, easily overpowering him and wrenching his arm painfully behind his back. It wasn't enough to cause any permanent damage, but it was enough to hurt.

"Really Ron. Did you really think I would be so easy to overpower? What kind of lieutenant would I be if a bound prisoner could best me?" She growled in frustration, throwing him bodily to the ground. "Stay down Weasley." she sighed half heartedly. They were doomed.

There was no way she could summon the Order in time, nor could she get to Lima. She couldn't leave, and she couldn't protect them- not with Potter, from the Dark Lord when he arrived. She was out of ideas and the world was going to hell because of it.

"How could you? I defended you when they said- when I heard you were a Death Eater. I said- no not Cass- she'd never. And yet here you are! You're a bloody monster" he was crying and he was furious. He was also terrified and he was trying so hard to hide it.

She felt a flash of irritation as the boy hurled accusations towards her. How little he understood the realities of the world. "Sorry to break your rosy world view Ronald. But the world isn't fair, adn not all of us have choices. You would do well to shut the bloody hell up about things you couldnt possibly understand."

Ron took another run at her, she sidestepped him, using his momentum to slam him into the wall. "And what about you Ron- you bloody idiot. Do you know what this means for you family? They will have to go into hiding. You've finally given us proof that the Weasleys' are conspiring against the government. That's all I need to round them up and throw them in Azkaban- if theyre lucky. And all because you you- you bloody idiot."

"Don't you ever talk about my family- we gave you everything. Oh I understand all right- you're a murderer. And I am sickened by you." He spat at her, slowly scrambling up.

Casiopeia opened her mouth to retort- shocked at how much his words had cut her when she was interrupted from the cellar door.

"Cassiopeia." Narcissa hissed. "Remember your place. You are needed." She did not wait for her niece to follow, instead marching away- back to the echoing screams of the smart mudblood girl. She deflated a little- shaking her head and left the prisoners down in the cellar.

She sighed when she entered the drawing room once more, taking in the scene. Draco was pale and shaking- looking a little green as he listened to the cries of his former classmate- his eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

Lucius and Narcissa stood to the side, each a little alarmed at the mania Bellatrix had worked herself up into. She was crouching over the girl, pressing her knife into her skin, torturing her slowly as she pressed her for answers.

"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?"

"We found it — we found it — PLEASE!" Hermione screamed again.

"Mother." Cassiopeia said firmly, stepping forward, trying to gain control over this situation. "Mother stop- give her a moment-" She grunted, stumbling back as Bellatrix spun on her, brandishing her wand like a whip- sending searing flames towards her. She winced, patting out the smouldering embers in her robes as she glared at her mother, her own wand clutched in her hand.

"How dare you Cassie." Bellatrix hissed, her eyes shining will madness. Her heart sunk- there was no reasoning left in her mother, she was gone and replaced with a mental frenzy.

"You must let the girl breathe Mother or she will perish uselessly." She ground out. She resisted the next curse, flicking it away with her wand much to her mother's surprise. Cassiopeia very rarely fought back against her, and this development sent her even deeper into a rage.

"And what do you care about this mudbloods life?" She roared, her eyes glinting.

"I don't care about her life. I care about the information she has- we have one chance mother, and we must get this right. Let me question her-" She was cut off once more, forced to defend herself against a quick volley of spells that she barely managed to deflect. The woman really was a prodigous force of nature when she put her mind to it. And it seems her mind was solely on punishing her daughter now.

"And just what do you think you know- who taught you?" She sneered, angry sparks shooting out of her wand.

"You did, and so did the Dark Lord. That girl has information we need, and we will not get it if you kill her!"

Bellatrix sniffed, "we have the others. The blood traitor." She said, baring her teeth at her daughter.

Cassiopeia jerked her head in irritation. "No- he might'nt know. Ronald Wealsey was with his family for part of the year- I confirmed this myself. He wasn't always travelling with the girl. He might not know where the sword came from. This girl on the other hand- she will know- she's been missing since July.

We have one chance mum, you trained me for this- we need to handle this correctly." She tried to make the woman see reason, tried to sway her to think rationally. It was a mistake. Bellatrix Lestrange was neither reasonable nor rational. She was mad, fuelled by strong emotions and fanaticism. And she was furious at her daughter.

Cassiopeia raised her wand, steadying herself to face off against her mother. She did put up a fight- however Bellatrix was stronger, she was faster- and she had trained her daughter. She knew all of her weaknesses. She was knocked back against the wall, curling in agony as fire raced through her blood- it felt like she was boiling from the inside out, like there was venom racing through her system, sapping her strength and testing her sanity. She curled into a ball and cried out in pain- utterly useless to stop the interrogation.

Smirking in triumph she turned back to the Granger girl, tutting as the girl tried to crawl away. "Not too fast girl. You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!"

She continue her torture, eliciting another terrible scream — Cassiopeia flinced slightly- tryng to fight through the pain, trying to find the source of the curse so she could break it.

"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!"

There- the curse had grazed her shoulder- she could feel it spreading from there. She gasped as she shifted- clenching her wand and struggling to bring it to her own shoulder- to the epicenter of her pain. If she could just isolate it- she could flick it off.

"What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!" The girls screams helped center Cassiopeia- it fuelled her determination. She couldn't die- she couldn't let another person die needlessly.

"How did you get into my vault?" Bellatrix screamed, becoming fully unhinged. "Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"

"We only met him tonight!" Hermione sobbed. "We've never been inside your vault. . . . It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"

"A copy?" screeched Bellatrix. "Oh, a likely story!"

"But we can find out easily!" came Lucius's voice. "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"

She muttered under her breath- panting and having to start over again. She felt the curse, felt it leaching into her system, she felt the spread of inky dark magic poisoning everything it touched. She could feel her magic surrounding it. The room faded away- the noises muffling and moving into the background as she felt the magic in it's raw form, as she opened herself up to viewing the magic in it's fundamental form. Her skin prickled with the ambient magic in her environment, and her senses zeroed in on the curse.

She distantly heard Draco come back with the Goblin. She had fully surrounded the curse with her magic when she heard a pop in the cellar- the shift in magic was so subtle, she would've missed it entirely if she wasn't already tuning into the ambient environmental magic.

"What was that?" shouted Lucius Malfoy distantly- he sounded muffled- underwater as she worked to shake free of the debilitating curse her mother had cast. "Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar? Draco — no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!"

Bellatrix manhandled the goblin, pushing him to the ground and reluctantly givng him the sword in question. The Granger girl was suspiciously quiet now. "Well?" Bellatrix said to Griphook. "Is it the true sword?" The room collectively held it's breath as they waited for the golbin to speak.

Cassiopeia jerked her wand away from her shoulder, taking with it the curse her mother had attached to her. She sighed in relief, panting as she struggled to regain her senses and her energy. She had to do something.

"No," said Griphook. "It is a fake."

"Are you sure?" panted Bellatrix. "Quite sure?"

"Yes," said the goblin.

Cassiopeia groaned, finally rolling to her side before pushing herself off the ground. She looked at her mother, and the relief that stole across her face, all tension drained from it.

"Good," she said, and with a casual flick of her wand she slashed another deep cut into the goblin's face, and he dropped with a yell at her feet. She kicked him aside. "And now," she said in a voice that burst with triumph, "we call the Dark Lord!" And she pushed back her sleeve and touched her forefinger to the Dark Mark.

Cassiopeia's heart stopped- coughing out in alarm, trying to raise her wand to stop the mad woman. But it was too late- she felt it in her scar- he was coming. She stumbled to her feet, leaning against the wall, frozen in horror.

"And I think," said Bellatrix's voice, "we can dispose of the Mudblood. Cassiopeia, I see you're up again-take her out back to finish her."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Cassiopeia started at the sound, spinning wildly with her wand raised to find the source of the noise.

It was Ron Weasley, who had burst into the drawing room, a wand clutched in his hands.

Bellatrix looked around, shocked; she turned her wand to face Ron instead — "Expelliarmus!" Ron roared, pointing his stolen wand at Bellatrix, and hers flew into the air and was caught by Harry Potter, who had sprinted after Ron.

Lucius, Narcissa, Draco wheeled about their own wands raised, Cassiopeia hesitated, still in shock at the sudden turn of events.

"Stupefy!" Potter yelled and Lucius Malfoy collapsed onto the hearth. Jets of light flew from Draco's and Narcissa's wands; the boy threw himself to the floor, rolling behind a sofa to avoid them.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!" Cassiopeia spun to her mother, who was supporting Hermione, who seemed to be unconscious, and was holding her short silver knife to Hermione's throat. Of course, Bellatrix was more than her wand- she always had weapons.

"Drop your wands," she whispered. "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!"

Cassiopeia stumbled forward, towards her mother- her legs stiff from the curse and her heart still racing, her wand was clutched tightly in her hand, but not raised- not yet.

Her eyes focussed on Ron, who was clutching his stolen wand, and on Potter who held her mother's wand.

"I said, drop them!" Bellatrix screeched, pressing the blade into Hermione's throat.

"She'll do it boys." Cassiopeia said lowly, looking meaningfully to the boys as her mother's knife cut into the girls throat, drawing a few drops of blood. "Best listen to her." she said.

"All right!" Potter shouted, and Cassiopeia sighed as both the boys dropped their wands and raised their hands to shoulder height. It had been quite the surprise- but not enough.

"Good!" she leered. "Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!" Cassiopeia shuddered, fear prickling at her skin. For just a second, she had believed Potter was going to escape.

"Now," said Bellatrix softly, as Draco hurried back to her with the wands, "Cissy, I think we ought to tie these little heroes up again, Cassiopeia you take care of this little Mudblood, you are not to be quick with it either Cassie- prove to me where your loyalties lie" She hissed at her daughter, glaring dangerously.

Cassiopeia was about to retort when she heard a peculiar grinding noise from above. She looked up just in time to see the crystal chandelier tremble; then, with a creak and an ominous jingling, it began to fall. Her mother was directly beneath it; she dropped Hermione, and threw herself aside with a scream. Cassiopeia jerked away from the chandelier, casting a quick shielding charm to divert the worst of the shrapnel coming her wal.

The chandelier crashed to the floor in an explosion of crystal and chains, falling on top of Hermione and the goblin, who still clutched the sword of Gryffindor. Glittering shards of crystal flew in all directions: Draco doubled over, his hands covering his bloody face.

Cassiopeia watched the scene as if she were in a dream. Ron ran to pull Hermione out of the wreckage and Potter ran over to the cowering Draco and pulled all three of the wands from his grip. He then pointed them all directly at her and yelled, "Stupefy!"

She stood there stupidly, watching the boys and made no move to defend herself. The wind was knocked out of her as all three spells hit her, launching her up into the ceiling and then onto the floor.

Pain, her world was pain as she felt as several of her bones shatter from the pressure of the fall. She tasted blood and she could feel bits of teeth come loose in her mouth. She struggled to breath, finding her chest curiously compressed, each breath causing her more pain. Her head swam and the room spun.

She could hear the distant screams of rage from her mother, she saw a curious looking house elf sweeping away Potter and his friends and she almost laughed. It came out as a dull wheeze, the movement causing fresh waves of pain to over take her body.

She gave into the darkness, falling into the bliss of unconsciousness, content with the fact that Potter was safe. He had escaped. The war wasn't over.

Not yet.

 _A/n I am sooo sorry for how long this took me to write- I had to keep going back to the book to remember exactly how this scene went. We dont see Dobby's full rescue because well- being thrown into the ceiling and then falling from the ceiling will definitely result in some crushing injuried. I reckon she had some shattered ribs, her face is heavily fractured, and she would have some internal bleeding. Not pretty at all._


	24. Chapter 24: Poisoned

Cassiopeia was being punished by her mother when Dora went into labour.

Since the night Potter had escaped she had not been alone with the Dark Lord. He had shunned her, exiled her from his presence. He was different, mercurial, brooding and erratic. He was occupied with something and it wasn't his war machine.

She only caught his attention when she earned his ire when he remembered her inadequate attempts at capturing the blood traitors.

When the Dark Lord was displeased with her, Bellatrix was displeased with her. Her mother's punishments had always been cruel but in light of losing her wand, her punishments were now sadistic.

She was tortured at knifepoint. If she was lucky it would be a plain silver knife. If she was in a particularly poor mood, it would be poisoned.

It had been such a day for her, and unfortunately her mother decided acromantula venom was the price of her indiscretion

Bellatrix was an expert with a knife. She never cut too deep or too far. She knew exactly how much pressure to put to exact the most amount of pain. But even with her skill, Cassiopeia fought to remain as still as possible. Accidents happened, even to Bellatrix and she would rather not die from a cut artery.

When her mother had her wand she would often perform her punishments in front of a group of her peers. It was a power play, meant to deter others and remind them what she was capable of. A wand could be a impersonal- it put distance between the holder and the subject. It was a show.

But her wand was not an option, not since Potter had stolen it when he escaped. She found Narcissa's wand distasteful and though she would occasionally settle for using Cassiopeia's wand, it still did not perform in the way she wished.

So she defaulted for her knife. Using a knife on someone was very different than a wand. It was personal, intimate. One had to be deliberate and controlled when they used a knife, they had to be careful because it was a very fine balance between life and death. A centimetre too deep and that was it- it would be over in seconds.

Bellatrix would be the first to admit she was rusty with her knife skills. Since breaking out of prison she had performed only a handful of interrogations with a knife, and of those they were always as an addition to the things she would do with a wand. She would alternate between the two. Also since she escaped, she very rarely performed any interrogations where the victim would need to stay alive. In fact, she almost always killed them in the end.

To torture someone fully with a knife, ensuring their survival, was something she had not done since the last war.

This did not deter her however or cause her trepidation. She gleefully took these sessions to heart, honing her skill while using her daughter as a test subject.

Bellatrix would punish her in the cellar, where the prisoners were held. She would order Cassiopeia to kneel, her back to the wall. She would not tie her up as she would a prisoner, she expected Cassiopeia to comply fully, to submit.

In these moments Bellatrix seemed less crazed , less wild. She was a predator, cool and efficient. She was in control. Something about a knife centred her mind and calmed the mania.

Though it had been years, the memories and her skill came back quickly. Bellatrix would delicately draw her weapon across the area she was going to cut, its touch would be so light it would almost tickle, "oh Cassie," she would sigh softly, "you live to anger me." Her touch would be gentle, reverent before she would increase the pressure for the first incision.

Cassiopeia would know then whether her blade was coated in venom. She would feel the burn of poison if it was present.

"What did you do Cassie," she would ask, alternating between shallow cuts and soft strokes.

"I failed you mother." She would say back, trying to keep her voice strong and steady. Bellatrix hated when she showed too much weakness. She had to accept her punishment and remain strong. She was a Lestrange, her daughter. She was not weak. Never mind that Bellatrix sobbed and begged when the Dark Lord punished her.

"No," she barked harshly, digging the knife in deeper. "You failed the Dark Lord. I created you to serve him, your only purpose is to do as he wishes. And you can't even do that."

Cassiopeia bowed her head and closed her eyes as she tried to not flinch away from the pain. Bellatrix was good, but mistakes could happen. If she wanted to live she needed to remain still.

She would apologise to her after every cut and when she finished her session she would have to thank her for her punishment and promise to do better. Bellatrix would always sneer at that, and say something about how she was a disappointment. A failed experiment that hardly had a use.

And then she would leave her daughter to clean herself up.

Cassiopeia usually remained in the dark cellar for a while afterwards. She found the darkness comforting, it was only then that she would let her emotions spill out. It was the only place these days where she felt safe enough to let the madness out and give into a slight mental breakdown.

Cassiopeia felt the most mad at these times. The most conflicted because a part of her, a sick, demented, twisted part of her almost enjoyed these sessions. She missed her mother, and this was the only time they were close. The only time she would touch her warmly, fondly, just before pain. She craved her warmth, even if it was tinged with anger and disappointment.

As the war dragged on, the Dark Lord had become more demanding, more inpatient with his followers. Cassiopeia hadn't had a warm interaction with her in months. She missed it, she missed her love.

Occasionally Narcissa would join her, in the dark and the two would clutch to each other and cry. Cassiopeia loudly and Narcissa silently. Always a Black sister, even when they gave into grief, they remained stoic and composed.

The Dark Lord would not heal those wounds. They stood angry and red as a sign of his displeasure. They were motivation to do better. To be better. Though her cuts may not be healed, she was permitted to receive anti venom no sooner than three hours after being poisoned.

That was enough time for the venom to act while she stewed on her personal failures, but not enough time to kill her properly. Sometimes Snape would administer the anti venom, however most of the time she was left to her own devices for healing. It was during those times she apparated to her old mentors office for a spot of healing.

She escaped to her office at the ministry, curled up in the corner of her office with her legs pulled close to her body and her eyes trained firmly on the timepiece on her wrist.

She was covered in a cold sweat, a fever raging through her system as the venom slowly worked its way through her system. The cuts from her mother's knife burned. She was shaking, violent tremors that ran through her body causing unnatural jerks.

On the dot she rolled over to her fireplace, wrestling with the bowl of floo powder and immediately went to her old mentors office in St Mungo's.

Lionel Spavin was in a meeting with some new trainees when she appeared, sick and shivering, barely conscious in the middle of his office. He ignored the surprised yelps from the trainees and pulled open his desk drawer calmly, hardly missing a beat. He had grown used to her appearances.

"What's it feel like Cass?" He asked wearily, clicking through the bottles he kept in his office for just these visits.

"Chills, fever, numbness, tremors. The wound is cold." She gasped

He nodded, frowning as he selected a bottle. "And what would you diagnose that as?" He asked, glancing at his trainees as he began to administer the potion to her. She drank some, grimacing with the taste and he put on some gloves and pulled out some cotton swabs.

He paused at the shocked silence of his trainees. "You have a patient coming in reporting these symptoms. What more can you see- Lucretia-go," he said nodding to one of them.

"Ah— Erm—is that Lestrange sir?" She squealed terrified. She paled further then Cassiopeia let out a raspy laugh that turned into a cough.

Lionel frowned even further, using the cotton swabs to dab the potion in her open wounds. "Never mind who it is. In St Mungos we do not take sides or let our personal opinions get in the way of who or how we treat. We help anyone and everyone in need. This woman is clearly in need."

Her cuts smoked as he dabbed them with the potion, sizzling and popping as it met the traces of venom. Lionel kept an iron grip on her shoulder, steadying her as she tried to jerk away.

"Patient is pale, feverish with dark circles under her eyes. She is shivering and has a high fever. Several open wounds suggest not an animal attack but an er- a uhm—" one of the trainees trailed off.

"A knife attack. The injuries are consistent with a knife coated in venom. Which venom?" Lionel continued for his trainees, slipping off his gloves with a snap. He wrapped Cassiopeia's arm around his neck as he helped her up off the ground and into a soft chair he conjured for her.

"Snake venom?" One of the trainees guessed.

"Negative." Lionel snapped, conjuring up a large glass of water for her. "Patient reported numbness and a cold wound. Both are consistent with acromantula venom." He said.

Cassiopeia sat back in her chair, relishing the feeling of something so soft and enveloping. She let her exhaustion overtake her and gave into the bone deep weariness as the potion worked its way through her system, burning the poison out. It had spread far in the hours that had passed. It was not going to be a quick process.

"Now, I believe all of you have your trainer pairs. Report to them for your shadowing duties today." He shooed out the wide eyed trainees and locked the door firmly behind them. He deflated the second they were out of sight, turning to survey his patient with a grim look.

"Your mother may be skilled with a knife- but she is going to kill you if she gets those poison dosages wrong." He said darkly, moving to sit next to her.

Cassiopeia smirked grimly, closing her eyes as she relaxed for the first time in days. "If I should be so lucky to have the luxury of death. " she said wistfully. She wasn't allowed to die, not while there was so much at risk still.

"Why do you submit to this Cassiopeia? If it was a suicide attempt I would not expect you to seek treatment." He frowned, he sounded lost, dejected.

She coughed a little, humming as she could feel the potion burning out the poison. "This is my lot in life Lionel- it's not too difficult to understand " She sighed.

"You make your luck and you forge your own path in life Cassiopeia. It's not like you to blindly accept the circumstances." He said firmly.

"Things change," she rasped, exhaling fully and relaxing her body just so. .

He shook his head "you are being obstinate and I need to understand." He said.

She sighed again, getting lost on the delightful spinning of the room caused by the venom- this was the problem with going to Lionel. He always wanted to _talk_. And she always had to be frank.

"I've killed people Lionel." She said bluntly, squeezing her eyes shut tighter. It was hard to admit to someone she admired so. Not that it wasn't a well known fact. "This is my punishment for such heinous crimes. She is the balance in my life. For as long as I am under her influence she will hurt me. It's how she shows affection. And as long as she is around me I will hurt others at her behest. It's the way of things. It's why I exist. And it's what I deserve." She said lowly, keeping her eyes closed so she wouldn't have to look at the man.

She respected Lionel and she cared very deeply what he thought of her. It was hard enough seeking him out in her weakness. She wouldn't do it if she had any other choice. The way the venom worked through her system, she couldn't care for herself.

He was quiet as he thought through her words. "You don't deserve this Cassiopeia. You deserve to be free." He cleared his throat and topped off her water. "I know it's pointless ordering you to stay put for a day- but please rest. You will be weak for a day or two. No strenuous actions and if you could, get a hearty supper and a full night's rest." He patted the chair awkwardly as he stood and made his way out of his office.

She reclined in the chair for another hour, taking the moment to enjoy the silence and the venom induced fuzziness. It was rare these days that she could just sit and she found the experience highly liberating.

Her empty thoughts slowly gave away to plotting as the anti venom cleared her mind. She needed to visit Dora when she could- the woman was due any day now. She needed to talk to Lima- she needed to know where she was moving so she could keep the Catchers away.

She also needed to plan some high profile house calls as she searched in vain for the Weasleys. She needed it to look like she was getting somewhere with the hunt. She had already loudly been inquiring into Charlie's whereabouts on her searches- starting with all his usual city hangouts. Surely he knew she was looking for him and he would stay out of her way.

When peeked her eyes open to glance at her watch. She was losing daylight, and though she wanted nothing more than to fall into a deep sleep and rest like Lionel ordered- it was simply not to be. Being poisoned was one of the only legitimate excuses she had to disappear for a day or two. No one would miss her, which meant she had a lot of subterfuge to fit in.

She struggled out of her chair with a loud groan, and apparated to Lima's latest headquarters, eager for a strong cup of tea and a days full of plannning.

She was on her way home from Lima's current hideout when she ran into it.

She had decided to walk the last of the way home, and thought perhaps stopping for a drink along the way. Her body was heavy with weariness from her punishment, the poisoning, and her mind was full from her plotting. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for a week.

But she also really did not want to go home. Everywhere in her townhouse was tainted by the Lestranges, it was a museum for their family heritage and her legacy. She wanted to continue her escapism for a little longer, and a crisp beer perhaps would do just that.

And if she were feeling really wild perhaps she would book a room in the muggle world. She had done it before, when she felt particularly overwhelmed by her life. She even knew the perfect pub turned hotel that was a few blocks away... her thoughts wandered as she weighed the pros and cons of extending her absence to pretend to be a normal muggle.

She was pondering a fake name and occupation when she entered the pub she frequented for such moments of retreats of fancy.

She trudged over to the bar, mentally cataloging the youths both in the bar and nearby on the street, trying to decide which ones would most likely sell her illicit substances of any description and if they could be brought to her room.

"Alright there Miss Smith," the bartender gave her a set of keys for the night, "second floor to the left lovely,"

She turned to leave with her drink when she was interrupted by another bar patron. "Miss Smith?" He asked

She frowned, almost groaning at the greeting. Her stomach flipped pleasantly as the man spoke. Her brain however was already thinking of ways to end this conversation and go straight to sleep.

"Ye-" she froze as she turned to look at him, almost dropping her drink and keys in the process.

"No," she gasped, her blood running cold.

"A little birdie told me you were looking for me." He smirked, causing her stomach to flip again. She smacked the man, hard in the shoulder. Repeatedly.

"Charlie Weasley you big bloody idiot. Don't you know there is a bounty on your head? That I'm supposed to be leading your manhunt?" She hissed slamming her drink on the counter so she could better hit him.

He grimaced, raising his hands in surrender, "Of course I know Cass. But I heard what happened with Ted and I had to see you. This was my first chance I could."

She wanted to be furious with him, she wanted to rage and to yell at the man. But they were in public and she had drawn too much attention to herself as it was.

"Come upstairs," she sighed, "and I'm still furious with you."

He gave her a lopsided smile and followed her to the room. She paused for a moment, staring at his face, his smile. Merlin he was handsome. It had been half a year since she had last seen him and he was exactly as she remembered. Well built, tanned from working in the sun, and with that stupid earnest look on his face. He wore a hat to cover his hair, and some nondescript muggle clothes. He looked like a builder, just finished with work.

"You don't look well Cass, sit down," he said gently grabbing her shoulder. She flinched away from him, sitting in the bed on her own volition

"I'm not well. That's why I'm here. So I can relax and hide from my life. You are a very prominent part of my life right now."

He frowned, his eyes trying to catch hers. "Do you want me to leave?"

She stared hard at the bed as she thought. Of course she didn't want him to leave. Seeing him, being around him brought up all of her old feelings for him. Feelings she thought were dead and gone. She wanted him to hold her, to comfort her and to be there for her. Even if it was temporary.

She couldn't say that though. It was selfish and it was dangerous.

Charlie crawled onto the bed and sat next to her. "It's ok to be afraid Cass. I'm afraid too. But I care for you too much to leave you alone," he nudged her shoulder with his, trying to catch her eye.

She leaned against him hesitantly with a sigh. "How's your family doing?" She asked lowly, staring hard at the bed.

"As well as can be expected. Bill and fleur are holed up with—"

"Charlie," she interrupted him, "please don't finish that sentence."

"Oh right."

An awkward silence filled the air between them.

"How are you doing Cass? Can I get you anything?"

"How did you know? That I'd be here?"

"Tonks may have mentioned that you occasionally come here after a tough day. When you can get away for a bit. So I've been coming by, hoping to catch you. And I finally did."

She shook her head. Served her right for sharing secrets with Dora.

"So tell me about your tough day. Let me help you Cass." He continued, shifting closer to her.

She scoffed, a bitter bile filling her throat. Her body ached, her mind was fuzzy and she was exhausted. And now Charlie Weasley was somehow here, wanting to talk now? Of all the times.

"It's best if you don't know about my day Weasley." Her voice was hard as she said it and she tried to put more distance between them.

She felt his shoulder droop at her words. "Weasley huh? Humour me." He said softly, trying to put on a brave face.

She felt the madness rear its head, the crackle of fire and cries echoing in her eyes, muting everything else. Bitterness filled her as she thought about the unfairness of it all. How dare he come to her, wanting to comfort her? How could he still care for her after everything she'd done. She was actively hunting for him and his family- so what if she was intentionally sabotaging the search. It didn't matter, she was still doing it, hunting albeit half heartedly.

Why didn't Charlie understand that? How could he not see the truth, of what terrible person she was. How could she show him?

Perhaps she could tell him.

"Do you really want to know why I'm like this today Charlie? You want to know wabout my tough day as we are calling it?"

"Of course I do." He insisted.

"Today I was tortured with a knife laced with venom by my own mother because the Dark Lord was displeased with the fact that I had yet to deliver you to them. I had to wait hours before taking the anti venom because what's the point of poisoning someone if they don't suffer? Then after I was treated by a man I deeply respect, and facing that particular brand of humiliation, instead of resting as the healer ordered I had to spend the rest of my coordinating with Lima because being poisoned is the only way I get a reprieve from my duties for a day.

And now I want to drink my alcohol, sit in my anonymous hotel and pretend I am a muggle. My body aches, the cuts burn, I am knackered and hungry, and weak. And now I'm crying, like a bleeding idiot." She angrily wiped away a stray tear, her body shaking after the outburst, she could hear the madness echoing in her ears- she could feel the draw as her overworked mind tried to cope with her day. She hadn't intended to tell him that much, once she started it just came out like word vomit.

Charlie was silent. He hasn't really thought through what it was like for Cassiopeia. Of course he knew being a Death Eater was difficult, and he had always suspected she was mistreated by her parents. But to have it laid out so plainly to him took him aback. He didn't know what to say or what to do. There wasn't anything he could say. He couldn't understand, he never would.

But he loved this woman, and had cared for her deeply for many years. He wanted to be a source of comfort, not stress.

He reached out and gingerly wrapped his arms around her shoulder. Carefully and slowly he arranged the two of them on the bed, Cassiopeia pillowed on his chest. She was pliant in his hands, all of the fight had left her in her exhaustion.

He felt her relax, just a little and considered it a victory. He grinned when he heard a little snore escape her a few moments later, already fast asleep.

He sighed as he processed what she said and spent the evening looking at her, really looking at her.

She was pale, her skin waxy with dark circles under her eyes. Her face was slackened with exhaustion and from what he could feel, she was thinner than he remembered.

He didn't know how she did it. How she continued on every day. How she could be tortured and poisoned and still go back to her tormentors begging for forgiveness.

There was nothing he could do for her except hold her and try to listen to her.

His family hated her and they would strongly disapprove of him seeing her like this. They felt betrayed by her, they had seen and heard too much about her life to know where her loyalties were. They told him- about the night she single handedly took out an entire village. Dozens of muggles murdered in cold blood.

But Tonks has also told him about her possession. He had never heard of such a thing before and he felt sick when they told him in broad strokes what that meant.

His mother worried about her sanity. She was the only one who had seen Cassiopeia during her visits to Tonks. She reckoned there was nothing left of the girl they knew, that she was a twisted and damaged thing completely under his thrall.

He looked down at her sleeping, reading the exhaustion and pain in the way she held her body. Her face though was peaceful- her mouth opened slightly with the tiniest snore escaping. Of course there was no way she was still completely sane. How could anyone be if they went through the things she did- the torture, mind games and possessions. But despite everything that was thrown at her, she still soldiered on, still trying to help a side of the war that wanted nothing to do with her.

She was brave. And she was strong. And dragons dung he still loved her, faults and all.

He sighed again resting his head on top of hers and he closed his eyes and tried to get comfortable. Loving her mattered little now. She wouldn't believe him and they couldn't be together in the war. So he settled in and savoured what time he did have.

Cassiopeia woke up in the middle of the night feeling uncomfortably warm and stiff. Despite this she woke up with a smile, feeling cozier than she had felt in years. She stretched and frowned as she felt the body next to her. She stared at Charlie, admiring his features, the feel of his body, and the stupid optimism that brought him here. The boy was remarkable— far too good for her. But she was selfish and hugged him tighter, digging her nose into his collar and falling asleep once more

Xxx

It was a few days later when she managed to make it to Dora's house. When she did finally get a chance to visit she was greeted by a very suspicious Lupin and the sound of babies laughter and the splashing of water.

"Lestrange now might not be-" he tried to block her path, still highly disapproving if her involvement in his child's life.

Cassiopeia pushed past him, slamming him into a wall with perhaps more force than was necessary as she let herself in and followed the sound.

"Merlin Dora," she called stopping at the scene in the kitchen. There was a tiny baby, with bright blue hair, naked in a washing up tub that doubled as his bath. Dora was murmuring to the child and Andromeda hovered nearby, ready to help.

"Cass! Mum do you mind?" She turned to her mother who gently took over supporting the child.

She rushed over to give her a long hug. "I'm so happy you've come by, I've been dying to introduce you to your nephew," she looked radiant, exhausted and beautiful. And happy, she didn't think she had ever seen Dora so happy.

"Nephew? A boy? A little baby boy?" She felt emotional, eager to meet the child and terrified of tainting it. She had never been around children and she worried about their temperament

"Your godson. Teddy Lupin."

She felt giddy, her body buzzing in awareness of this precious child.

"Teddy who is getting all cleaned up to meet his aunty. Yes he is, yes he is," she cooed walking back to her mother and child, taking over so Andromeda could greet her.

She woodenly accepted Andromeda's embrace, her eyes struck by the child. "Would you like to meet him?" She asked lowly, keeping her arm around her.

Cassiopeia resisted her pull, suddenly terrified of the child. He was so small, so delicate. And she was afraid of hurting him.

Dora swaddled the baby with a towel, making cooking noises and transfiguring her face to the baby's delight. It looked so natural, she was so in her element, so perfect. She was everything Cassiopeia was not.

Her heart raced as Dora came closer and Andromeda kept her rooted to the spot, her eyes wide and flashing.

Soon Dora was offering her the wriggling mass, "cradle the head just like that Cass, that's right you're a natural." Andromeda said, adjusting her hold on the infant.

Dora laughed at the face of her sister, her eyes were wide and terrified and she was stiff and still, afraid to move. "Relax Cass. Teddy won't hurt you," she said

"S'not him I'm worried about," she murmured getting lost in the child's face. Teddy stared at her intently, his eyes wide and curious as he took in the new person. She let out a startled laugh, feeling her eyes tear with a strong emotion when she saw his hair change from blue to a dark green.

"He's like you Dora. But he's got his dad's eyes," she said softly feeling fiercely protective over the child.

She laughed even more when he reached out to pull a string of her hair, laughing in delight as the curl sprung back.

"Oh you little troublemaker," she cooed.

She panicked when the laughter died out and he jutted out his lip, his eyes tearing. The loud cry made her heart clench as she looked wildly at her sister and aunt. "What did I do?" She asked, panicked.

Dora grinned, her eyes dancing in amusement. "Nothing Cass. He's just a wittle hungry isn't he? Yes he is. Who wants some snackies hmm? Is it you, my beautiful boy?" She gently took him back from Cassiopeia and excused herself to go feed her son in the next room.

She sat heavily at the table, her hands shaking a little as she processed what just happened. "Alright there?" Andromeda asked, wrapping her arm around her niece.

"It's a bloody miracle. She literally made that, she- they created life." She stared at her hands.

Andromeda laughed in delight, squeezing her shoulder. "That is what happens when you have a child Cassiopeia."

She shook her head, straining to catch a sound from her nephew. "Ted would be beside himself with joy right now," she said. Andromeda smiled sadly, letting in her grief for a moment. "He would probably cry don't you think?"

She laughed remembering how emotional he had been. She always admired that about him. "He'd be beside himself. Especially when they told him they named him after him."

Lupin came back into the room, giving her another suspicious look as he grabbed something from the kitchen. He then hurried back to his wife where she was feeding their son.

She stayed for as long as she dared, risking punishment to spend time with the baby- only leaving when they put him to sleep. Dora was exhausted, even with Andromeda's help and it wasn't long until she too was asleep on the couch as they tried to catch up.

She promised to come back soon when she said her goodbyes and left feeling a little more resolve for the path ahead.

Xxxx

She was in a fortified testing lab at the ministry, playing with a new shape of magic she had thought of when she was interrupted rudely by one of her men.

She cursed as the steady creep of shimmering blue pulsing power exploded in her face. She was experimenting with a motion inspired by the pulsing if a slime mould and was curious to see if it translated to magic.

The man was panting, his brow sweaty and his face pale. "There you are mum" he took a few deep breaths as he tried to catch it. "Gringotts - there was a break in." He leaned heavily against the door, still gasping. "It was Potter, he escaped with a dragon."

"He what?" She snapped harshly , surely she had misheard him.

"A dragon mum. Right through the floor of the atrium. It's chaos and we already have people on the scene.

She dropped everything and apparated to the bank.

The man had been right. It was chaos. It took her a little under an hour to get the desired information out of those around her. She had only managed it through brute force and intimidation. Her stomach dropped the more she learned. Imposters had broken into her family vault and took something.

When her mother was torturing the Granger girl she had asked her if she had been in her vault. What was there that Potter would want? Something the Dark Kord surely gave them for safekeeping. She frowned when the goblin told her and confirmed it was indeed Potter who broke in.

And the Dark Lord had to know.

She grabbed the goblin and a few other witnesses and brought them to the Malfoy Manor. She had a house elf fetch her mother and the other occupants of the house. They grew silent when Cassiopeia tossed her mother's wand back at her. Potter took it, and having it returned did not bode well. Cassiopeia rolled up her sleeve and summoned the Dark Lord.

The room dropped a few degrees when he came and her guests grew quiet as they realised who was there.

She bowed her head to him, her insides clenching. He had brought his snake, who slithered up and around her leg menacingly.

"My Lord-'' she began but he silenced her, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look up at him. She gulped as he entered her mind, she would have found the feeling uncomfortable if she wasn't used to it. It had been so long since he had last used legilimency on her- and she found her Pavlovian reaction was still present, relaxing and calming under his touch.

His amusement of her reaction to him was muted however at the rage of the news. He pushed her away against a wall as he spun in cold fury on those around him.

"You-" he pointed at the quaking goblin.

"Speak. What happened today at Gringotts"

"There was - an- uh- a break in My ah Lord." The goblin trembled, "into the L-Lestrange vault. I-imposters sir."

"What?" Roared bellatrix, her eyes flashing dangerously - "what was stolen? Speak faster!" She creates a whip of flame to lick the goblin.

She only stopped at the Dark Lord raising his hand, his eyes boring into the cowering creature.

"A s-small golden cup." He was crying, flinching away and unable to meet the eyes of the wizard who was growing more and more irate.

"What did you say to me?" His voice was high and cold. Cassiopeia trembled behind him, feeling the room drop even further as she felt his fury rise. She had never, not once seen him this angry before.

"Say it again!" murmured Voldemort. "Say it again!"

"M-my Lord," stammered the goblin, its black eyes wide with terror, "m-my Lord . . . we t-tried t-to st-stop them. . . . Im-impostors, my Lord . . . broke — broke into the — into the Lestranges' v-vault. . . ."

"Impostors? What impostors? I thought Gringotts had ways of revealing impostors? Who were they?"

"It was . . . it was . . . the P-Potter b-boy and t-two accomplices. . . ."

"And they took?" he said, his voice rising. "Tell me! What did they take?"

"A . . . a s-small golden c-cup, m-my Lord . . ."

He broke, a terrible scream of outrage left his mouth as his wand moved on its own accord, flashing green and killing the goblin and making quick work of the other witnesses she had brought. He was blind in his fury, his wand attacking everything in sight and his snake lunging forward to make a quick meal of his victims.

Cassiopeia was paralysed- she had never seen him this angry, this irrational. Whatever that cup was must have been important.

She felt bony fingers digging into her robes and she was grabbed and pulled away out the door.

Bellatrix was shaking, her eyes wide with tears streaming down her face as she clutched her daughter to her. They sat, holding each other in the next room, listening to the Dark Lord rage, destroying the room when there was no one left to kill.

She didn't dare speak and hardly dared breath in case he looked for them, in case he wanted to kill them to sate his rage.

The Lestranges had failed him. She understood that even though she had no knowledge of what had happened. Not really. What was it that Bellatrix had hidden for their master? A small cup? She had catalogued the family vaults when she came of age, there were all manner of heirlooms and trinkets, a host of cursed items, but nothing stood out from those lists.

It grew quiet in the next room and they both strained to hear what was next. She yelped in surprise when her mark burned and she looked at her mother questioningly. She shook her head, it was Cassiopeia alone being summoned.

She reluctantly left her mother's arms and carefully entered the room.

Every piece of furniture had been obliterated. Every mirror smashed and every window was shattered. A cool breeze made its way through the room and Nagini was making quick work with the Goblins body.

The Dark Lord stood in the center of the chaos, still as the night, his eyes closed and taking deep, even breaths.

His eyes opened and met hers when he heard her movement.

She felt the lightness in her limbs as he barely twitched his wand, letting the imperius curse steady her shaking and bring her close to him.

 _Look at me_ she heard him hiss into her mind, the suggestion a gentle caress.

She found him intoxicating in her curse and easily entered his arms, surrendering to the feeling.

It had been so long since he had compelled her this way, as he took away her agency and let her surrender full control. She forgot how beautiful it felt, to not be. It was better than any high she had ever achieved with a drug.

He cradled her close to him, delighting in the feeling of her body against his, her mind completely under his control. He enjoyed the feeling of bliss she found in his dominance, and it helped calm his fears and soothe his rage.

"You did well Little Lestrange, alerting me of this event so quickly." He murmured

She remained silent, pressing her face against his neck, his compulsion forcing her to seek more contact with him.

"Your mother worships me, she is my most loyal, my acolyte. And yet she has failed me little one, and I wonder if you will as well. You who hates me so."

"I was born for you my Lord." She said simply,

He hummed, baring his teeth in a facsimile of a smile. He rubbed his face against hers, practically purring, "So you were. A gift to me. I own you, mind and flesh. You are mine to do with what I please. And you are obedient. I have taught you your place. But I have been negligent in terms of your care. I can be merciful." She shivered as he whispered in her ear, as he squeezed her against him.

She almost moaned in relief when he started to heal her many injuries across her body. It felt heavenly and she slumped in his arms, lost in the feeling of being normal and whole for the first time in months.

"You need to be strong little Lestrange. You need to be sharp. And you will follow my will. Go to Hogwarts and deliver my message to Snape." She felt him press a folded letter into her hand. "Then remain in Hogsmeade, fortify it with the army you've built for me. Harry Potter will come and you will catch him."

She swallowed, feeling uneasy for the first time. If he thought Potter was coming then it must be nearing the end of the war.

"Yes. Soon Little Lestrange our power will be absolute. Now go." He released her. She bowed lowly, and hurried out, past her questioning mother and directly out the front doors of the Malfoy manor.

It was no small matter mobilising her army. And she had to warn Dora somehow.

She started first at her office, it was late in the day and most were getting ready to go home. Caecilius however was still there.

"Jovius." She snapped at him.

He paused, giving her a lopsided grin, his eyes travelling her body before standing to attention. "What can I do for you Lestrange?" He asked easily, smiling lasciviously. She scowled, regretting her decision to sleep with him. Repeatedly. He was a pig. A handsome, useful pig.

"I need you to prepare the men. We are on high alert for Potter in Hogsmeade. I need everyone to be ready at a moment's notice- doyou understand."

He sobered a little, his eyes sharpening. "Of course. Is Hogwarts the target?"

She shrugged, "one can assume. I am on my way there now. The Three Broomsticks will be our headquarters for now. Meet me there- I have a few other errands to run. Place extra protections and patrols on the town." She said, he nodded, the playfulness gone and replaced with the soldier she knew he was.

She glanced at her watch. She had time for a quick visit- especially since she delegated most of the work to Caecilius. Of course Caecilius would do a good job, which was worrying.

She apparated next to Dora's house, needing to see her sister at least one more time.

She knew something was wrong when she hugged her first without saying anything. Dora stumbled back in shock, squeezing her sister back.

"What's going on Cass?" She asked, concern turning her hair a ruddy brown. Cassiopeia pulled away when she heard the cry from her nephew, cradled in Lupin's arm.

"You're looking well Lestrange," Lupin said lightly, noticing that all of the wounds the pair had become accustomed to were healed a shiny pink. Her face twitched with dislike towards the man- "I've to be in fit condition. The end is soon he reckons. We are gathering our troops in Hogsmeade. He thinks the boy is coming soon. Imminently.

You need to tell the others. I've pulled everyone to be on alert, we are gathering there now and unfortunately it's been delegated to my most effective lieutenant."

The couple looked at each other in concern, "we can leave Teddy with your mother," Lupin murmured and Dora nodded.

"No, no Dora. You just gave birth three weeks ago. You can't go into battle. You must stay with mum and your son" Cassiopeia protested.

Dora smirked at her sister, her hair turning a short, spiky pink- her favourite when she was being rebellious. "Just you try and keep me away Cass. I have to fight for my son's future."

Cassiopeia felt another flash of irritation and resignation. She glanced at her watch once more. She would be missed. "Please stay safe, both of you. You have much bigger things to worry about." She said weakly- "I've got to go. I have an army to prepare and I'm expected at Hogwarts." She paused, looking at Dora very seriously. "I love you nymphadora. Please stay safe. I don't know what I'd do if you were hurt." Dora gripped her hands tightly, smiling. "I love you too Cass. Be safe yourself and soon we'll be laughing about this." She hugged her sister once more and was off to Hogwarts to deliver her letter to Snape.

Her heart raced as she entered the castle. It was dinner time and she could hear the children in the great hall as she passed. She wondered if Snape was in there now.

She would wait for him at his office. She climbed the stairs, tracing the familiar path to the Headmaster's office, trying hard to ignore the memories the castle brought.

She was surprised that he answered the door when she knocked, apparently he had given dinner a miss that night. If he was surprised to see her he did not show it.

Instead he opened the door wider and invited her in wordlessly.

"I come with a message," she said pulling out the envelope and handing it over.

Snape sat heavily and read through it, his face a mask of stony indifference. When he finished he burned the parchment and looked at her heavily.

"Where will you be setting up?"

"I've got Caecilius making our headquarters in The Three Broomsticks. If he is correct, then we will likely need to move to the forest. Hogsmeade can't hold all of our allies and he seems to think Hogwarts is the end goal. The place of our last stand."

He nodded, his eyebrows knit together.

"My second favour. The last one- I want to call it in now." He said gravely.

She paused before nodding sharply. She couldn't deny the man. "The students. You will try to leave them out of this as much as possible." He said seriously.

She frowned, wondering what he thought of her that this request wasn't a given. "You won't need a favour for that Professor. Of course I will do my best to spare the students. But if they fight back, I can't guarantee their safety. I can't be everywhere." She leaned forward seriously.

He leaned back, giving her a small smile. "Fine. If you won't accept that as a favour then let's try this. If you catch Potter. Let him go-" he challenged her.

She smirked at him, relief flooding her system. She had always suspected, had hoped that he wasn't as loyal as he wanted everyone to believe. "I can do you one better Snape. I will actively sabotage my army. I've already warned who I could about this conflict. I can only assume the Order is alert and ready to intervene."

He nodded, relaxing slightly into his chair. "Put on a brave face and clear your mind Lestrange. We still have our roles to play still."

It was a dismissal. She needed to get to The Three Broomsticks to start planning and to take over from Caecilius. But there was one more thing she needed to do. She stood and stuck out her hand towards her professor who looked at it sceptically.

"For everything you've done for me Professor. As a student and as an adult. Thank you and I hope to see you on the other side." She said honestly.

He stood and shook her hand tightly if briefly. He didn't say anything, just gave her a deep nod of acknowledgement.

She left the castle in a hurry, eager to begin her work as a saboteur and thinking of the ways to spread her army out foolishly.

Her days of being a loyal pawn were over and it was high time that she showed the Dark Lord what she really thought of him.

It was a good time to die, she reckoned. Merlin knew she was overdue.

 _A/n we are almost there. Maybe two chapters left! Reviews as ever are appreciated, they help me when I think im writing into the void_


	25. Chapter 25: The Battle of Hogwarts

Her mark burned. Snape had fled.

It was time.

She met him in the clearing along with the gathering forces. They were converging on the school outskirts. Preparing. Waiting.

She had done everything she could. She had organised their allies and her army in the best positions. She had to be mindful of each species sensitivities, intelligence and role in the war. She also had to toe the line of incompetence. It couldn't be too obvious that she was undermining them.

It had been busy, hectic and she had to muscle her way through countless arguments Only time would tell whether it was enough to tip the balance.

She knelt on the ground, her eyes closed as she steadied her breathing. She practiced mindfulness exercises from that bloody muggle book Ted had gotten her all those years ago- adapting the methods and mixing them with the instruction Snape had provided her in Occlumency.

The Dark Lord spoke- and from the gasps of those around her, he spoke to everyone. She sighed, unable to resist the Pavlovian response to his voice in her head.

"I know that you are preparing for a fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood."

In and out she breathed. With every breath she let her madness spill in from the back of her mind. She let it mix with her carefully contained rage- the deep well that she kept locked up. She eased her usually tight controls and let the two emotions mix into something heedy and potent.

She had no time for thoughts. She needed to be instinct. She needed every advantage she could get. Madness and rage would fuel her future- it would fuel the rest of her life if she were lucky.

She hoped death was near. And she hoped she died bringing in a better world.

"Give me Harry Potter and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded."

She adjusted herself to stretch, slowly and languidly. She needed to be limber for the battle.

"You have until midnight."

She heard the uneasiness around her, the muttering between her men. She barely tilted her head when they informed her of the children leaving through one of their blocked off passages. They searched for Potter amongst the students but she knew they would come up with nothing.

Potter was making his last stand.

She had made plans for the evacuating children. She had prepared for this, Hogwarts would try and spare as many children as possible and she was inclined to help them in this endeavour.

The wives took care of the children. The formerly battered women whom she had taught to defend themselves. The ones whose husbands she had intimidated and shamed. They would look after the children and guide them to the waiting train. It wasn't the Hogwarts express but it was a train with provisions, sleeper carts and protection. They would be sealed away from the fighting- safe and relatively unaware of the outside world for a while.

The air shimmered around the castle- they were preparing for the fight, using the castle's ancient defenses. The Dark Lord was still as a statue amongst it all, his eyes closed and his snake kept cose.

She drew her wand as the hours end drew near- carefully cracking every joint and taking care to rotate her wrists. It was always good to be properly relaxed and warmed up before a fight.. The air was cool and crisp and it was a beautiful night. The stars were shining brightly and the moon was half full in the sky.

She glanced at her mother- standing as near to the Dark Lord as she was allowed. Her eyes were shining madly and she kept licking her lips, twitching with anticipation. Her father and uncle stood not too far off, both of them looking surprisingly sober and present. They hadn't bothered her in months, not when it became clear they couldn't kill her without drawing the wrath of Bellatrix and the Dark Lord. She had placed them on the front lines of the main attacking force. Hopefully they were taken out early.

She cracked her neck, rolling her shoulders as she carefully adjusted her feet.

All the wives were looking after the children except Narcissa. She stood at the edge of the circle, looking regal and apart. Next to her was Draco. She had become his shadow, never far off from helping him. He looked green as he stared down at his school. He would be fighting his classmates, people he practically grew up with. Not even her protections could help him in this battle.

Finally the hour drew to a close and Potter had not appeared.

The Dark Lord inhaled and everyone held their breath, waiting for his signal.

"Kill them all."

She gave the signal and watched with satisfaction as her men acted as almost one to shoot the opening volley at the school's defenses.

They were thugs, imbeciles, and inbred idiots. But she had at least taught them some sort of discipline which was actually remarkable. It wouldn't though, she hadn't trained them that well.

She could feel the impact of their spells deep in her chest, a thousand explosions as magic hit the protections and the night lit up with the show. Their magic was mighty- but it was not enough to bring down the protections around Hogwarts. Not yet at least.

It wasn't until a single, blinding, neverending surge of power that sizzled through the air and singed her skin, overwhelming all others did the barrier finally collapse. The Dark Lord had done what hundreds of her men had failed to do. And he had done it in a single spell.

She let the madness in a little further as she inhaled, savouring the brief moment of shocked silence that overtook her people, before she roared into the air- a rallying cry that was echoed across the perimeter and was quickly overtaken from the sounds of hundreds of footsteps rushing towards their goal.

Kill them all he had said.

She would certainly try.

The gargoyles and the knights put up a good fight, but they were ultimately no match for their giants who led the charge due more to their large gait rather than any particular enthusiasm.

She was bringing up the rear and the battle was raging when she finally entered the fray. She could see Caecilius whooping with joy as he cast hugely powerful destruction spells that broke away the masonry and shattered windows. The Order was here and her mother was nowhere to be seen.

Her observations were interrupted as a volley of spells came her way from a few fresh faced students. Children.

She felt her rage bubble over as she crossed wands with the kids, letting the injustice of the situation fuel her. They should be worrying about exams, not protecting their bloody school.

She was careful though, never harming nor maiming. She redirected their spells at other Death Eaters, taking a few out. She aimed her spells to miss by mere centimeters. Enough to make them believe she was fighting but not enough to put them in any true danger.

There were two of them, Gryffindors and once she found the cadence to their spells she allowed herself to become distracted, looking around the battlefield, looking for openings to attack and looking for her parents.

There.

Rodolphus was fighting alongside his brother, back to back as they duelled Arthur Weasley and Pomona Sprout.

She stunned the children, careful to push them out of the way of falling debris and casting a quick shield charm around them as an extra precaution before training her eyes on her father.

The madness swelled even further, the battle faded away as she focussed on her target, her ears filled with a distant screaming that was not at all related to the battle raging around her.

She was efficient with those who stood in her way, cutting through the field stunning and knocking out all obstacles- Death Eater or not.

She didn't notice the flash of alarm in Arthur's eyes as he saw her approach- he was barely holding his own against Rodolphus and that was only because Rodolphus was occasionally assisting his brother Rabastian who was engaged with another witch who was exceptionally challenging. Rodolphus did not miss the alarm however- glancing quickly to assess the new threat.

He smirked when he saw his daughter approaching- assuming at first she was coming to his aid, as a good Death Eater and a good daughter ought to do. His smirk sharpened when he saw the look on her face and the madness in her eyes.

"Come to die?" He growled, tapping his brother and jerking his head towards Arthur, urging him to take over as he assessed the newest threat.

Rage battered her skull, a pulse of hot fire that raced through her veins and she snarled, not bothering to engage verbally before releasing wave after wave of magic at the man.

Rodolphus was many things, a bully, an alcoholic, and a wretch- but it could not be denied that he was exceptionally talented with a wand, even after his prison sentence. She had trained against him and Bellatrix. She couldn't beat the two of them together, she was certain of that. But with just him- it would be close but she liked her odds.

The battle was inelegant. It was savage, brutal as spells whipped between the two- each fuelled by the hatred and disgust that had been stoked to epic levels through their forced cohabitation and civility over the last two years. Every indignity this man made her suffer came to the front of her mind and powered her magic, her antipathy bringing her spells to new levels of power she was never aware she was capable of.

Her father too had been unaware of just how effective her anger was at powering her magic, and in the end, her antipathy was stronger than his. She went for the jugular, slashing him with a curse that would set his blood aflame and suck the oxygen from his system. The savagery of the magic shocked even Rabastian, who stumbled when he saw his brother fall with a sickening gasp and the gurgle of his last breaths. He faltered enough for Arthur to incapacitate him.

Capture wasn't good enough for Rabastian though and Cassiopeia cut him down too, a flash of green, sparing him the pain of a messy end like his brother. She could be merciful.

Arthur did not lower his wand when their eyes met, though his hands did tremble a bit and his face was pale with horror and disgust at the scene he just witnessed.

She nodded to him and moved on, she wouldn't fight Arthur Weasley. That wasn't why she was here.

She could feel the electricity in the air as she stalked the battle field, searching for either worthy targets or her family. She knew Remus was here and she had a sneaking suspicion Nympadora would be as well. Bellatrix was also here- somewhere and so was Draco.

She could feel the magic in the air- it hung heavy and heady, it filled her senses and filled her brain. She was a being beyond thought now- she was an agent of chaos. She felt the flow of power all around her as if she were in a river and she redirected the flow of magic as she pleased, walking in and out of fights, putting her hand on the scale in favour of those defenders.

She breathed in, pulling magic residue towards her, and as she breathed out it solidified. The air shimmered as she pulled on her environment, and soon the air cackled with electric power. She crafted a shield that did not block incoming spells so much as slow them down. She shrugged off her injuries, so far lost in her madness that pain barely registered.

Very few were brave enough to take her on directly, and the few that did only did so in partnership with others.

She had just knocked off Dolohov when she heard a familiar mad cackle break through the crowd.

Bellatrix.

She marched towards the cackle, her head nearly splitting open with the force of her madness and anger.

She grunted as the world imploded, her body slamming into a wall as the outer castle wall exploding, spewing shrapnel in its wake. She barely managed to disintegrate the larger life threatening chunks that came her way but the force of the explosion had barely been softened by her condensed magical shield.

She coughed wetly as she heaved spitting a gob of blood on the ground before standing once more and limping through her pain and injuries single mindedly towards the voice that had haunted her nightmares for years.

She pushed her way through the fights, no longer caring about careful spell redirection or pretending to fight. She even punched a few of her fellows, catching them by surprise as she kicked their legs out from underneath them and cracked their faces against her fists. It wasn't enough to seriously injure or incapacitate them, but it was enough for others to step in and finish her job.

She didn't find Bellatrix but she did find her victims. Knife wounds and bodies were left in her wake as she followed the trail.

Her hands shook as her eyes found the still form of Remus Lupin.

Her mind cracked and her world shattered when she saw the woman beside him.

"No."

All of the air left her lungs and a deep hopelessness filled her body. Her legs gave out.

"Dora," she said urgently, grabbing a fistful of the girl's robes. "Dora, don't be a prick. Dora wake up-" she shook the girl, felt around her face, frantically looking for a pulse, for any sign of life.

Her skin was cooling and her eyes were empty.

Cassiopeia lost herself entirely in her grief- numb to the battle around her. How could they still be fighting? How could any of this be happening? Didn't they know? Didn't they care that her best friend, her family, her sister was dead.

She screamed. She roared. And she raged.

They would tell stories about what happened next, though she had no memory of it so lost was she in grief and madness.

Spells flew wildly at every dark robe in her vicinity. She was out of vengeance, for blood in retribution for this crime.

It was the Dark Lord's voice in her head that brought her back to herself enough to regain a little control. He always did, she thought bitterly- letting his presence soothe her mind and chase away the worst of the madness.

"You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste."

"Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my troops to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured."

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you needlessly rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the forbidden forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

She slumped against the wall- feeling the exhaustion of the fight nearly overwhelm her. Her limbs were shaking with exhaustion and she felt a deep emptiness in the pit of her stomach as her madness was chased away by the Dark Lord.

A reprieve. He had given them a reprieve and an ultimatum. She could give a troll's hairy arse because it was already too late. The war had already taken that which was most precious to her.

She ignored the looks of those around her, wary and terrified as she carefully lifted Nymphadora in her arms. She clutched her wand as she levitated her dead husband. It's what she would want. For them to be together.

She followed the others to the great hall, her eyes burning with tears. She barely spared a glance at the others being levitated, the grief mirrored on the others faces. Children. So many children were dead.

Her heart shuddered as she saw a mop of red hair set next to Lupin and Dora. One of the twins- barely out of their teen years, gone forever.

She had failed to protect him too. She sobbed silently, her whole body seized in pain and sorrow. Merlin. Their son. She let out an audible gasp as a fresh wave of pain lanced through her chest. Teddy was alone, an orphan. The last remaining Tonks.

She jerked when she felt a hand on her shoulder, startled and a little alarmed. Through all of her grief she still understood where she was and what she was. She would fight anybody who tried to break her away from her family.

"Cassiopeia-" it was Arthur Weasley, his face blotchy and eyes red as he looked down at her. He opened his arms wide welcoming her, sharing his pain with her and offering comfort.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Arthur. I couldn't protect him, I wasn't there- Merlin I wish I was there." She muttered over and over again shaking in his embrace.

He shushed her, his voice cracking as he thought about his son, whatever he was about to say lost in fresh sobs. She understood. She felt the same.

Arthur's embrace was replaced with another's and she clutched to these arms like a woman drowning. In a lot of ways she was.

"Charlie," she sniffed, wrapping herself up in his embrace. "I'm so sorry Charlie."

He was quiet as he held her, shocked and horrified. He kept thinking that this was all a dream or a joke. That Fred would just wake up- laughing at all of their faces.

But Fred was not cruel and reality did not play jokes on them.

"You're hurt." Charlie said finally, noticing how her sobs had turned into sickly sounding wheeze.

Hurt was an understatement. She could feel her injuries keenly and she knew that she was more than hurt. She was dying.

It hurt to breathe. She thought it was her sorrow and grief that caused it, but the funny high pitched wheeze that left her mouth and the throbbing pain suggested otherwise.

She tasted blood and she could feel it caked on her face and in her hair. She also felt faint. A deep exhaustion that she had only felt once before- when her magic was being sucked out of her being by a mad squib.

She wouldn't let Charlie move her from her sister though. She couldn't leave her.

He cursed and left her instead to find help.

"Cassiopeia, come on up you get. Sit." She was boneless in the healers hands, her vision beginning to swim.

She wasn't sure what happened in the afterlife. Clearly something if there were ghosts. After all of this she had hope though. If she could just give in, perhaps she could join Dora and Ted again. She wouldn't even be opposed if Lupin was there. She disliked him but he had been a fundamentally good person. And he made her sister happy and that was all she cared about.

Someone else sat next to her, wrapping their arms around her shoulder. "Don't give up now Cass- I still need you to sign some paperwork." She felt her lips pull upwards slowly.

Mira Lima. Her brilliant solicitor and stubborn friend who refused to leave the bloody country to safety.

"Don't be daft Cassiopeia. Sit up straight and follow my wand."

It was Lionel Spavin- her healer that Charlie fetched. "How did you two get here?" She wheezed, wincing as it caused a fresh pain to shoot across her chest.

"I listen to the radio." Lionel answered as he transformed his wand into a small hearing trumpet and ordered her to breath. She struggled- in and out. In and out.

"You've punctured your lungs- badly by the sounds of it." he said crisply. "Normally we would repair it slowly and send you straight to bed rest. However knowing you I expect that we will need you in this next fight and nothing I can say would convince you to stay away. This will hurt. Alot. You may find it a little difficult to breathe for a moment."

That was all the warning he gave her as he jabbed his wand right between her ribs. Her eyes bugged as she gasped, feeling every ounce of air get sucked out of her lungs. Her heart raced and she felt sweat bead her forehead as she gasped, trying desperately to find some relief.

When she was positive she was going to die of asphyxiation she felt the air suddenly rush back into her lungs, hyper inflating it and causing an equally painful pressure to shoot through her chest.

Lionel's eyes were already moving around the hall looking for his next patient as he pulled a few potions out of his bag, "take the blue one and then the red. Finish with the pink when the hour is up. Good luck. Don't die." He said already wandering away to treat a girl who was bleeding profusely from her head.

"Prick," she gasped, clutching Lima's hand.

Her vision cleared up and her chest pain nearly disappeared with the blue potion. She felt less woozy and felt her energy begin to return after the red potion. Her deep exhaustion had lessened to a very manageable bone weariness.

She eyed the pink potion curiously. After the hour he said. When it was time to fight again, she understood. .

The hour passed and in that time she withdrew into herself and focussed on her emotions. They were clouding her judgement and mucking up her focus.

She searched for them, naming and isolating each emotion. She felt each one deeply and fully- acknowledging them and then pushing them aside. She locked away those that were too raw, too painful to handle. The ones that pushed her into the wrong kind of madness. She harnessed those other feelings, bitterness, vengeance, and a fury that dwarfed any she had felt before. It lit a fire in her belly and she stoked it with her pain and with the injustice of the world.

How could someone like Bellatrix be permitted to live in a world where Ted and Nymphadora Tonks were not.

Not even the Dark Lord could calm her now, his message instead set her teeth on edge and her mania seeped through her mind, calming it and cooling her coherent thoughts.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone.

The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

She drank the pink potion- feeling electric energy jolt through her system as she exhaled smoke. Her pupils dilated and her pain faded. She was ready for round two.

The hall emptied, each person silent in their own thoughts. She stood tall, her wand clutched tightly in her hand with lightning running under her skin itching for release.

She stared down the oncoming force, her eyes flicking across the survivors. She made eye contact with Narcissa, who was pale and bruised. She shook her head slightly, her eyes flicking between Potter and her but whatever message she was trying to convey was lost as her attention was ripped away by a horrifying sound

Professor McGonagall let out a screech that was agonising to behold- a raw expression of anguish and despair.

Her eyes shot to the resounding laugh that echoed through the courtyard. Only one person would find such joy in the face of a true human emotion such as this. Her mother, standing beside the Dark Lord-looking dishevelled and a little bloody.

More cries echoed out as friends and family alike saw their dead friend.

"SILENCE!" cried Voldemort, and there was a bang and a flash of bright light, and silence was forced upon them all. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"

"You see? Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"He beat you!" Ron Weasley shouted causing the crowd around her to swell in support.

"He was killed trying to sneak out of the castle grounds. Killed trying to save himself." He twisted the story. She may not know Harry Potter but she knew that wasn't true.

A boy ran forward with a cry and the Dark Lord disarmed him immediately.

"And who is this? Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

Her heart sank.

"It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?" Her grin was sharp as her eyes sparkled with delight.

Stupid boy, he would die if he was lucky- or end up like his parents.

"Ah yes, I remember. But you are a pure blood aren't you brave boy?"

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

"When Hell freezes over- DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY!" He shouted

"Very well"

She shivered as she heard the silkiness in his voice the preceded danger.

"If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head," he said quietly, "be it."

A distant window shattered and a brown shabby object came forward and engulfed Longbottom's head.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School," said Voldemort. "There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor Salazar Slytherin will suffice for everyone, won't they Neville Longbottom."

She clutched her wand, helpless.

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," said Voldemort, and with a flick of his wand, he caused the Sorting Hat to burst into flames.

His screams were terrible and they were followed by that of his friends.

Through all of this he searched the crowd, pausing when his eyes met hers. She felt his presence, so delicious and so overwhelming as it filled her mind.

 _Come to me_ she heard him whisper in her head- a command.

Dora's dead face flashed across her mind and for the first time she resisted his pull.

Cassiopeia was intimately familiar with the Dark Lord's presence in her mind. He had lived there freely for years. Now she searched for them in her head and when she found him, she severed his ties efficiently and fully, finding every hook, every last trace of him in her consciousness and pushed him out.

His face twitched along with his wand. Her limbs felt light and a heady sensation filled her body as the Imperius curse washed over her. Her feet moved a mere centimetre before she dug in her heels and closed her eyes to concentrate. She pulled on her memories of family, of her friends- the lives she had tried to protect.

Her foot moved forward.

She struggled, thinking of Charlie, the Weasleys and their son. He must not die in vain. She inched forward.

Teddy. He was so small in her hands. She remembered the first time she saw him, how he had taken her breath away. She had been terrified of holding him afraid of hurting him. It was his future she fought for. The last living part of the Tonks bloodline.

She halted, shrugging off the spell with a gasp.

He snarled at her and she opened her mind, really opened it so he could see exactly how loyal she'd been.

He muttered something to Bellatrix before his attention was grabbed elsewhere.

She made eye contact now with her mother, her chin jutted out defiantly- high on her small success against the Dark Lord.

The glee from McGonagall's grief was gone and some of her madness had abated. Her face was steely, determined and deadly. It chilled her to the bones and she couldn't resist the shiver of fear at it. In all of her time, in all of her punishments, Bellatrix has never given her a look like that before. It was a look that meant death.

There was a distant thundering and she felt the ground beneath her feet shake.

"HAGGER!" A voice shouted at a volume she felt in her belly. A giant stumbled into view, looking around desperately.

The Dark Lord's giants responded, charging towards the one who made the interruption.

She ducked, breaking eye contact with her mother when she heard the soft twang of bows and arrows soared towards the Death Eaters. She looked around in shock, her wand reflexively moving to conjure wards around the group she was in.

"HARRY!" She heard Hagrid roar, "WHERE'S HARRY?!"

It was chaos. Centaurs attacked from one side and the giants fought on the other. Overhead thestrals and hippogriffs attacked and they were all forced back into the castle.

Through the frenzy she lost her mother, though she did manage to take out a few Death Eaters.

She grabbed Ginny Weasley by the robes, pushing her behind her into the school as she intercepted a curse coming her way.

The shop keepers of Hogsmeade appeared along with other wizards she did not know, more reinforcements. The house elves joined into the fray and she could hear the Dark Lord giving orders.

She blocked a few spells from those reinforcements, they very rightly saw her as a Death Eater and therefore a threat. She shrugged off their attempts, cutting through the pandemonium to find her mother.

Bellatrix was beside her master- duelling three children at once. Luna Lovegood, the Granger girl, and Ginny Weasley.

She felt her rage build and she pulled on it, she twisted it with her hatred and sorrow, turning it into a weapon as the Dark Lord had taught her.

She pushed Luna away, out of the path of a curse and took her place.

Bellatrix smirked as she saw her daughter join the fray.

"Little blood traitor finally shows her true colours," she mocked, focused entirely on her, batting away the other two as if they were gnats.

Bellatrix was relentless and it took all of Cassiopeia's skill and training to hold her at bay through her opening volley.

"Killing you should've been the first thing I did Cassie when I learned you had been corrupted by that filth. Then I should've tracked down every last bloody Tonks and extinguish them." Bellatrix shrugged off Cassiopeia's returning spells, redirecting the explosions into the walls.

"I almost have you know, exterminated the vermin you love so. Just one little baby is all that is left. Then I suppose I should prune my own family as well. Andy has remained unpunished for too long" Bellatrix taunted.

Granger and Ginny were mere spectators at this point, watching in awe as the two fought.

They were evenly matched, their wands a blur as their magic crossed paths, occasionally colliding in mid air. Both women had madness in their eyes, and each one anticipating the other's moves. It was clear they were related and clear they were intimately familiar with each other. The ground beneath them started to crack and the air grew hot and thick around them as the battle continued. She could smell the electric ozone as the residue of their magics hung heavily around them.

"Oh Cassie," Bellatrix sighed as she did before every one of her punishments. She paused for a moment to look at her daughter, "you truly are a waste of a brilliant soldier. So strong, so deadly. I did train you well."

Cassiopeia bared her teeth in a snarl as she used the pause to surge forward with a fresh burst of spells.

Bellatrix blocked them all without issue, but sweat was beginning to bead on her forehead. She was being challenged.

"Do you want to know the one thing you are forgetting dear Cassie?" She asked softly, a cruel manic smile growing in her face.

"What?" She huffed, unable to resist her mother's taunting any longer.

It was a lull in the fight- both women circled each other, stalking one another like predators- both catching their breath.

"You forget Cassiopeia who made you. I taught you everything you know darling. I know every move, every weakness, every thought that is going through your head. You can't beat me- you never have and you never will."

Cassiopeia realised with horror that Bellatrix had been playing with her this whole time. Sure she was challenged more than usual but she hadn't actually been trying to kill her.

That all changed.

Cassiopeia gave up ground as she fought to contain the burst of spells that came her way. She managed...just. She knew most of Bellatrix's tricks because she used them herself.

Bellatrix was quiet as they duelled, the time for mocking was over. She meant business.

She was relentless- punishing Cassiopeia for every little mistake. It was gruelling and she was losing to her mother, slowly but surely.

The beginning of her death knell came when Bellatrix capitalised on her biggest weakness- selflessness.

She did not forget Ginny and Granger were still there- silent spectators. Cassiopeia did- so engrossed with what was in front of her.

She barely had time to react when the first deadly spell flew to the Granger girl. Bellatrix was bringing her back into the duel. Cassiopeia strained to redirect the curses coming at them both- offence was now almost completely impossible. She was able to protect them both, moving closer to Hermione so Cassiopeia's spells were more contained. Hermione for her part tried to return fire at Bellatrix, taking cover behind Cassiopeia- she tried to help in the battle. Against any other it probably would've worked.

But Bellatrix was the best duellist second to the Dark Lord himself.

Cassiopeia was able to occasionally fire offensively but she was growing weary- whatever potion Lionel had given her was wearing off. She was treading water at this point- delaying the inevitable.

Bellatrix smirked, she knew victory was imminent, and she pressed harder- now attacking Ginny Weasley.

Cassiopeia went cold as she saw the familiar green curse fly at the teenage girl and images of the Weasley's grief flashed through her mind.

"No," she gasped, frantically casting a spell to knock Ginny out of the way.

She only had a moment to feel the relief as the spell missed Ginny by centimetres and hit another Death Eater.

To save her she had exposed herself, momentarily losing concentration on her shields and Bellatrix punished her for it.

She dropped to the ground with a curdling scream as her mother's curse hit her, her mind going white with pain.

A blood boiling curse.

Cassiopeia had felt a lot of pain in her life. She was often cursed by her mother and she thought she could handle it all.

Nothing she had ever felt came close to this pain. The battle faded away, she faded away- coherent thought no longer possible and she begged for the darkness to take her away, she begged for death.

And then it stopped- the physical pain but the memory lingered and she clutched her head and screamed. It was too much. The pressure in her head was too much, the death, the lies, the pain. Her mind shattered over and over again.

Cassiopeia would later recall snippets of what happened next- images more than anything.

Molly Weasley was shouting.

Cassiopeia felt her wand in her hand, she felt the surge of magic leave her.

Bellatrix could handle her and a few children. She could not handle her and an enraged Molly Weasley.

She pushed Molly away, causing her spell to go off course.

Bellatrix laughed in glee, a mad grin on her face when Cassiopeia's curse hit her squarely in the chest.

She remembered the look on her face, the shock mingling with her glee as she fell.

She remembered dropping her wand, utterly exhausted. She remembered looking an enraged Voldemort in the eye- grinning as he looked at his fallen soldier.

She giggled as he pointed his wand at her- relieved that it was over for her.

Her giggle turned into a cackle not unlike her mothers when the spell never came.

Molly Weasley caught her as she fell, looking pale and afraid as she continued to laugh hysterically.

Harry Potter was alive. Harry Potter saved her. And he was going to duel the Dark Lord.

She felt the pain still, the blood in her veins set alight. She heard the sounds of the final duel as if underwater. She felt the arms of Mrs Weasley, cold and shaking around her. She felt her own body trembling, heaving with silent sobs.

She felt an explosion like a cannon going off and a cooling on her arm, a gentle, soothing tingle as the dark magic dissipated around her Dark Mark.

It was over.

He was gone.

She was free.

She struggled with the onslaught of emotions, years of stress and locked away emotions rushing out.

She pushed away from Molly Weasley who was crying with joy and rushing towards Harry Potter.

She searched the celebrating crowd looking for someone, anyone who could help her.

She stumbled over to the tall dark wizard who was celebrating and hugging his comrades. One of the wizards who duelled the Dark Lord himself and survived. Kingsley Shacklebolt was standing beside Professor McGonagall and another older man in emerald pajamas. He was hugging McGonagall whose eyes glistened with tears of happiness. She tugged on his robes to grab his attention in his celebration.

Both Shacklebolt and McGonagall turned to her- his eyes shining with joy and relief, the grin wide on his face.

Cassiopeia held out her wand handle first, looking very solemn as she spoke

"Auror Shacklebolt- I, Cassiopeia Lestrange am surrendering myself and my wand to your authority. I am guilty of many crimes including, murder, torture, treason, and being a member of the terrorist organisation known formerly as the Death Eaters. I offer a full confession and my complete cooperation."

The joy on his face turned to disbelief as he gently took her wand from her. He became incredulous when she offered her arms up, ready to be arrested.

"Are you serious?" He asked, pocketing her wand and accepted the other weapons she had on her body. "We haven't even celebrated yet," he said, examining her closely. "The time for that will be very soon Lestrange- you'll get what's coming. You've surrendered your weapons but you look like death. Rest and dwell on what's happened. Get patched up and when the time comes, I'll fetch you."

She found a quiet place amongst the celebrating witches and wizards to rest. She felt hollow and her grip on reality was tenuous at best.

This wasn't how it was supposed to end. She was supposed to die today, she was ready for it, eager for it even. Instead all the wrong people died- those who were much better and nobler than she ever was.

She wasn't sure when Charlie Weasley came to sit next to her. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. The two were silent and she fell into a fitful and exhaustion sleep.

Kingsley woke her up. The hall was comparatively empty and the sun was shining high in the sky- it must've been midday at least.

She extricated herself from Charlie's arms, blinking slowly as he awoke from his slumber.

"Wass'appened" he grabbed his wand briefly before relaxing when he recognised Kingsley.

"Cassiopeia Lestrange- it's time," he said grimly. She nodded, offering her hands once more. He waved her away, gently grabbing her upper arm as he prepared to apparate.

"Ready when you are," she said, giving him a nod.

"What's- you're not- Kingsley," Charlie said, sitting up in alarm.

"Cassiopeia Lestrange, I am bringing you to the Ministry of Magic Department of Magical Law Enforcement for holding and processing along with the other accused Death Eaters. Once processed you will be transferred to Azkaban where you will await trial. You do not have to say anything. But, it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."

She nodded as he finished his caution eager to get this over with.

"You're bloody mad if you think-" by the time Charlie stood the pair were gone.

Xxxx

 _a/n phew! I think i re wrote this like four times- and had to read the book a few times to get some of the events right. There is one more chapter left and an epilogue. I hadn't planned on starting another story quite so soon after finishing this mammoth story- but well- quarantine and pandemics might lead to some stories coming out. All in all, all three parts we are looking at 832 pages thereabouts (about 374,500 words). Which is mental. This whole thing started after a bloody podcast (Invisibilia- Frame of Reference) and a oneshot inspired by it. Please let me know what you think of this chapter- of all of them I think this one is the biggest deal for me to write and I hope I got it right._

 _stay safe friends, stay healthy, and wash yer hands!_

 _tibys_


	26. Chapter 26: The Trial

Mira Lima had been through a lot in her life and she liked to think herself quite resilient and persistent. She figured it was in her blood, the child of muggle political activists turned exiles from Chile, she worked herself to near exhaustion getting not one but two law degrees. She had faced sexism, classism, and prejudice to get to where she was- a very successful solicitor who was qualified in both worlds. She was the first to ever do such a thing, to even imagine that it was possible.

When the government turned on muggleborns such as herself, she did not take the easy path and simply hide- she started an organisation that smuggled those hunted and vulnerable to safety. She was a bloody hero and she very rightly deserved the Order of Merlin, First Class they gave her for her actions during the war.

Miraphora Lima was damn bull headed and she eventually, through sheer might and relentlessness, always got what she wanted. And what she wanted was into Azkaban to give her benefactor, her friend the fair sentencing she deserved.

She kicked up an almighty fuss, talking to every reporter who would take her story. She tracked down the Interim Minister of Magic, pestering him with her lack of access to her client. And Cassiopeia was still legally her client- and she had the paperwork to prove it. She hounded the Aurors daily, and they had even tried to ban her from the Ministry building itself but nothing deterred her. The press ate up her stories- particularly one Rita Skeeter who wrote only slightly embellished stories in the Daily Prophet.

She was introducing the world to the other face of Cassiopeia Lestrange- the face her family and friends saw. And with it she found more people willing to come forward and speak their stories about the controversial girl. Some of the stories were good- Cassiopeia protecting a battered wife, sparing a child and old friends whom she urged to run. Ollivander came forward about his experience with her as a jailer. She had been kind to him and the others, when she could. Luna Lovegood, a Hero of Hogwarts, spoke kindly of Cassiopeia- recalling her time captured was made tolerable by the woman. Other stories were less so, families of victims who were slaughtered by her and her troops. Prisoners who were tortured, who were held captive at her hands. It painted a mixed story, and one the British Wizarding public was hopelessly entranced by.

She wasn't going to be quietly convicted like the Aurors wanted. Lima had brought so much attention that it was impossible for her to disappear quietly into the abyss. Cassiopeia Lestrange had rights and Lima would be damned if the state were going to deny them.

Despite her fuss they still refused to let her visit her client. Harry Potter himself had to wade into it- the poor boy badgered by the press, his celebrity even greater in this time of post war celebration. He had said he thought the world deserved to hear her side before condemning her.

The media scrutiny grew to new levels of obsession with Potter's remarks that the government decided this one would need to be handled very carefully and very by the book.

And so Lima found herself walking the dark halls outside of the Wizengamot, ready to see her client, her friend for the first time in months. They had denied her access to her client pre trial, a fact she was going to use to her own leverage when she leaked that tidbit to the press. They got away with it by scheduling the trial early the morning of, hoping probably that Lima would miss the summons.

Lima did not miss the summons.

She had fought for this for over 9 months, she wasn't going to give up that easily.

xxxx

Cassiopeia shivered in the cold light of the courtroom, keeping her eyes trained fully on the ground. Her turn had finally come and though she couldn't hear those in the observation gallery she could see them and the flashing of their cameras.

Trial of the century they were calling it.

Her Azkaban uniform was stiff and scratchy, finely starched and clean. She had been allowed a cold shower before her court appearance which she had been grateful for. She shifted, listening to the clinking of the chains as they chafed around her wrists. It was a blessing that the manacles around her ankles were placed over socks, easing the abrasion against her skin.

At least there were no dementors. Not anymore. This new government was about reform and one of the things they focussed on was prison reform. It also didn't help that dementors were easily exploitable by darker forces, and posed a huge security risk.

She was startled when a side door opened, admitting a short woman who was dressed finely and professionally, carrying a briefcase.

She gaped as the woman, her old friend and she thought her former solicitor sat in a chair directly next to her.

"Are they treating you alright?" She asked lowly, covering her mouth as she spoke.

Cassiopeia stared at her.

"Oh shut your mouth Cass— we don't have much time before the proceedings and they wouldn't let me see you before. Are you doing alright?"

Cassiopeia snapped her mouth shut with a click, stilling staring at her friend. "What are you doing here Lima?" She asked

"I am still your counsel idiot, and with my Order of Merlin I am permitted to speak to the Wizengamot. I am here to represent you during these proceedings." She said popping open her briefcase and pulling out some papers.

"Why would you sully your honour by working with me." She asked, her body numb with disbelief. "I deserve this Lima. I deserve all of this." She continued, glancing around the courtroom.

She could see the angry glares and twisted faces as the audience hurled abuse at her. She was deaf to their words but their faces expressed enough.

"I am representing you because you do not deserve this. People need to know what you did during the war. All of it. I only have my Order of Merlin because of your actions. You saved me and let me save hundreds of people. That story needs to be told." Her face was red as she spoke, her eyes burning with determination.

"I killed people. Tortured them. I am not innocent." She said simply.

Lima nodded, taking a deep breath as she organised her papers once more. "The whole story needs to be told. The good and the bad." Was all she said.

Cassiopeia sat quietly as she watched Lima disappear into a back room with the prosecutor who was fuming and the Chief Warlock. They had only initially scheduled a half day for her trial, assuming correctly she would plead guilty and accept the punishment handed down to her with no complaints. It seemed however Lima was not happy about that.

She ducked her head as the group came back out, Lima looking smug and the prosecutor looking murderous.

The Chief Warlock stood, her arms out to silence the observation deck as she spoke clearly and thinly.

"Miss Lestrange- please rise."

Cassiopeia did so immediately, looking uncertainly between the witch and Lima.

"You are accused of war crimes and crimes against muggles, including murder, unlawful incarceration, kidnapping, and torture. How do you plead?" She asked imperiously, staring down the woman in front of her.

Cassiopeia refused to look at Lima. She wasn't going to play her game. "Guilty mam. I have already given a full signed confession to this court and have testified on behalf of the government in several cases." She said, her voice clear and strong.

The Chief Warlock nodded. "Very well. At the request of your counsel we will proceed with a longer than usual sentencing hearing. It appears you have multiple witnesses to testify on your behalf. We will pick up these proceedings in one weeks time to give our prosecutor adequate time to build the government's case.

In that time, and in light of your cooperation we will move you out of maximum security and place you in isolation in the minimum security level of the prison. You will be permitted to leave your cell for no less than 2 hours a day however you are not to mix in the general population." The Chief Warlock's judgment was proving to be rather unpopular, and she had to raise her voice over the objections of the other witches and wizards on the Wizengamot.

She looked sharply at Lima, she was trying hard not to smirk as she gathered her papers.

This was too much. She didn't deserve it. However she was pushed out of the room before she could fully object.

Cassiopeia experienced what followed as if she were in a dream. Everyday she was escorted to the Wizengamot where Lima would smile at her warmly, and ask concerned questions about her well being. Cassiopeia stared at her in incomprehension, feeling as if she were underwater, unable to clearly hear what her old friend was saying.

The first day Arthur and Molly Weasley testified on her behalf. Cassiopeia closed her eyes as they recounted the story of her as a child- how they found her. They spoke about her time in the Order, at the final battle as she helped Molly fight her mother. Cassiopeia had protected Ginny and Hermione, and was prepared to sacrifice herself for them.

Molly Weasley cried on the stand, dressed in black as she mourned her son. Cassiopeia had tried and she had failed to protect the family who helped her all those years ago. Fred Weasley was dead. She hadn't been good enough to save him.

The government prosecutor pulled out the confession that Molly had spent part of the war afraid of her, cutting off all ties when it seemed she had turned completely. Her help at the end had been opportunistic, he argued, when she realised her side would lose. She shook her head as he spoke, as he tried to convince them of her duplicity.

He thought she fought at the end to survive. She had been fighting to die.

Charlie came on next and Cassiopeia couldn't bring herself to look at him. She kept her eyes closed and retreated into her mind. He spoke about finding her all those years ago, and all of her strange behaviours. How she had never had sweets before, how she told him about mother's with such conviction and confidence. Where did his mother hit him? How did she hide the bruises? When did she show her true face? He spoke about her posession- the torture the Dark Lord had put her through- he had seen the bruises, the scars, and the aftermath first hand.

He told the world that he had been romantically involved with Cassiopeia Lestrange, even during the war. And he showed the world he still stood by her side, after it all. He had been there when she was arrested.

The Aurors delivered her the newspaper every day and she read with horror as her friends and family were scrutinised and vilified by the press. The opinion articles were the worst, as were the letters to the editor. Charlie Weasley especially was victim to the whims of the gossip columns-his every move and every word being analysed and criticised by the press. The speculation was horrible- who would come forward next? Her jailors were amused by her frustration.

The second day Lionel Spavin came. She looked away from him whenever he tried to make eye contact, ashamed. He had believed in her, had helped her in those early days, he nurtured her curiosity and mentored her- she was a cracking curse breaker because of him and she abandoned him. Gave it all up to help the Dark Lord.

He spoke about the notebooks she left him, that time in the hospital. He spoke to the abuse he witnessed, her mother cruelly cutting her with a knife as she disobeyed the woman. He told the world that she was poisoned often by Bellatrix, and he could see the injures that suggested torture. The notebooks had been filled with her spell diagrams, clues he had been able to use to break her spells and save dozens of lives. Her tip off about acromantula poison also led to the hospital stocking more anti venom- saving even more.

The state pointed out how she had made those curses anyways. She put people into danger by crafting them. They shouldn't have needed the counter curses in the first place.

St Mungos was graffitied that night, 'terrorist sympathiser', and Spavin had a sandwich thrown at him, hitting him in the side of the head as he left the courtroom. A member of the audience was cited for misdemeanor assault and fined. The press reported the sandwich was egg and cress.

The third day Draco testified, looking pale and skinny with dark circles under his eyes. Cassiopeia looked at him with pain, she had been unable to protect him and now he was being dragged into her mess. Harry Potter had intervened on his behalf, and he had been mostly pardoned for his part in the war.

He spoke about life in the Malfoy Manor and the pressure she had been under. He spoke about the way the Dark Lord treated her, like a pet and how he lived freely in her head, influencing her and moulding her. He also spoke about what happened when she disobeyed. How Bellatrix would delight in punishing her, sometimes spending hours. How she was always in pain, always being punished and how he was certain she had intentionally botched plans to save lives.

She had saved him from being on the front lines. She took over his duties so he would never have to kill or torture. He cried as he told the court and the wider world how she shielded him from the worst of things, how she worked to save his soul.

Narcissa came next, looking far older than she actually was. She sat regally however, and made direct eye contact with her accusers. She testified how Cassiopeia had saved her life. Putting herself between the Dark Lord's wrath and Narcissa, creating distance that saved them in the end. She also spoke of her sister's cruelty, both as she was an adult and as she was a child. She spoke of how Rodolphus would poison her when she was bored and she remembered Bellatrix torturing her daughter since she was barely older than a toddler.

The prosecutor argued that many had terrible childhoods without becoming murderers. That her past was not an excuse for her actions. And that Cassiopeia's actions were motivated by familial bonds and not by any sense of empathy.

Lima's lips curled as she observed the silent courtroom. Even without the spells in place to quiet the observation decks, it was clear that the audience was silent in horror and pity. Narcissa had been clear, detailed and graphic. Gone were the angry snarls and bloodthirst, Lima could work with pity.

Cassiopeia stared at the floor, her face stony as she listened to the testimony. She was barely listening, withdrawing until her head, letting the madness take her away from reality for a bit.

The newspapers published in gory details the darker parts of her life. Spending an almost obscene amount of time going through the exact tortures her parents had cast on her. They had to charm the papers with an age rating to read the more explicit, unsavory details.

Her childhood friend Constance Green testified the next day. Cassiopeia coughed quietly as a strong emotion overtook her as she saw her. She had survived. Good. At least somebody had listened to her warnings. If only others had done the same. She smiled sadly as Constance told her story- how Cassiopeia had cornered her in the muggle world. Had directed her to the resistance. How she escaped with her husband.

Selfishness the prosecutor argued. She had been motivated by some obligation for an old friend. Who was Lestrange to decide who was deserving of warning and who not. She was in charge of the Snatchers after all. She had to admit- he did have a good point. She had been in charge- she had signed the orders- she presided over the whole thing.

But so had others in the government, so many people- just following orders.

The courtroom grew quiet as Andromeda entered, handing an infant to someone off to the wings. Cassiopeia sat up in her chair, eager to catch a glimpse of her godchild, of the last Tonks alive by blood. Teddy, Dora had called him. Teddy who had blue hair. So enraptured by the glimpse of her nephew that it took her far too long to realise who was holding him. Harry Potter himself who was staring at her like she was a particularly hard puzzle to solve.

She coloured under his gaze, quickly returning her stare to the floor. She was doing everyone a favour by staying out of that little boy's life. Dora was wrong about her, she only ever brought pain and suffering into the lives of her family.

Andromeda's testimony was the hardest to listen to so far. And she was the longest to speak of her supporters. They had to keep taking breaks as the emotions overtook her. Andromeda had lost everything in the war- her sister, her husband, the love of her life, her daughter, her son in law and very soon her niece. All she had was her grandson. Her beautiful grandson.

She testified about the trauma Cassiopeia had when she was picked up from the group home when she was 11. How afraid she had been of her mother, how she had nightmares daily that were so bad that she had to drug herself to sleep. She was a child who had never been shown love before and she smiled warmly through tears as she recalled her first Christmas as she unwrapped a present. The first time she had ever been given one. Every scrap of kindness and love that was given to her was met with suspicion and fear.

She also spoke about her and Dora's relationship. Even in the height of the war she knew they were in touch, that they were talking. Even after she left the Order she knew that they were working together. Cass had been at her wedding under a disguise. After everything Dora still made her the godmother of her child.

Cassiopeia bowed her head, her cheeks wet, doubled over as far as her chains would allow as she thought of her sister- the lifeless body as she found her, next to her husband. She relived the memories as Andromeda told them, a gaping hole in her heart and an unbearable pain taking over.

The papers published Andromeda's account in full, word for word. There were no embellishments, there was no need to add it. There was a smaller profile of Nymphadora and her husband- Heros of Hogwarts.

The final day of her sentencing hearing she was led to the stand. She didn't remember agreeing to this, though she did remember Lima saying something to her. She supposed she might've agreed. It was hard to keep track of things now.

She fidgeted on the stand, colouring under the stare of all of those present. The chains around her wrist clinked loudly as she moved, making her even more nervous and painfully aware of her surroundings. It had been easier to ignore the observation gallery when it had been to her back. But now she saw just how many people were in there, there was standing room only and she could see many more trying to cram in the back.

There were reporters up front, snapping photos. She saw all of those who had testified on her behalf, former friends and colleagues. What was left of her family. Even little Teddy was there, his big eyes looking around the room curiously, laughing at the flashes.

"How are you Cassiopeia?" Lima asked softly, giving her friend an encouraging smile.

"Er-" she swallowed thickly before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She could do this. Just look at Mira. No one else. "I am tired." She sighed honestly.

Lima frowned a little and nodded, "this must've been an exhausting week for you. Having all these memories brought back up in full view of the court. I can only imagine." Cassiopeia remained silent. There had been no question asked for her to answer.

"I want to go over our relationship Cassiopeia, how we first met. You were 17 years old is that correct?"

Cassiopeia nodded. "Can you tell the court why you hired me?"

"When I turned 17 I suddenly had access to my family's vaults and accounts. I needed a solicitor to manage it. Nobody had ever even counted how much treasure was in our vaults or had ever truly compiled an inventory of our assets or an appraisal of the objects that were contained. I needed someone to count it and help me do something with it." She swallowed staring only at Lima.

She nodded, "and how did you instruct me to manage the fortune?" She asked.

"We invested some of it into various businesses across a few industries. We also bought a few properties and rented them out, as well as renting out several properties that were vacant. We started a few charities, in both worlds- donating money for them to be self sustaining and offering endowments when necessary. We started a few art collectives, community housing projects, a few shelters, food kitchens, clothes and food banks. We offered scholarships and donated heavily to the school fund to help children who couldn't cover the cost of supplies. Those were the ones I thought of, you had plenty of ideas too." She almost smiled as she thought of those early days of idealism where the possibilities were endless. They had helped people, really helped people with that blood money.

"And did you personally profit from any of this money?" Lima asked.

"No. All the profits fed back into the programs to pay you and your army of clerks that eventually rose. I had my own income source from the hospital which was enough for me."

"And what did you do at the hospital?" She asked.

"I was a curse breaker working under Lionel Spavin. Completing my residency for my qualification and later I worked there part time while I freelanced."

"Why curse breaking?" Her eyes turned sharp

Cassiopeia knew what she was doing. It was pointless, and she would be sure to point it out at the end. But this was her friend. She would play along for now.

"I had seen what curses could do to people. I had first hand experience of some of the worst curses known to our kind. If I could save someone from that pain, if I could help someone out of it, that was something special. Something good I could do." She stared at the ground as she spoke. She had done some good, it was true, but she also had done so much evil that could never be erased.

"Why were you so fascinated with curses?" She asked.

Cassiopeia swallowed. Very few people had ever known about her bracelet.

"My mother gave me a cursed object when I was young. After I ran away. It was a bracelet that let her find me, wherever I was in the world. It connected us, linked us together. I knew I could never hide from her again. After she went to prison it stayed with me, on me. I couldn't remove it, not with natural ways. I started learning about curse breaking so I could break that curse. So I could be free of that woman, so she couldn't find me." It had been much more than a tracking charm she later found out. It had tied their magic together, so Bellatrix could pull strength from her daughter. It had helped keep her mind sane while she was in prison.

"When he came back after the triwizard cup, what did you do?"

"I started to work with you to bury our trail, to make the charities completely self-sustaining. I bought houses, hideaways for you and Ted. We built in security should I die or the Lestrange fortune be turned by my parents for the war effort. And I cut off my ties. Broke up with my boyfriend, said my goodbyes."

"Why?"

"Because if He was back then it wouldn't be long until she broke out. Do—" she choked unable to say her name. "My cousin tried to tell me that it was safe, that it could never happen. But she didn't know Him like I did. I had seen his power as a child, felt it. It was only a matter of time. And once she was out, she would come for me. I couldn't hide from her, not with the bracelet. And she would surely torture and kill everyone I was with- to punish me for choosing Andromeda, for becoming a Tonks."

"And when she broke out?"

"They put me in protective custody. My mother was smart though, she waited. He eventually came for me."

"What were your options?"

"The night he came back I thought I had three options. Run and die painfully. Join the resistance, be hunted easily before dying painfully. Join him and become a monster before hopefully dying quickly. Professor Snape gave me a fourth option—spy. Sabotage from within."

She continued her story- looking only at Lima and ignoring the crowd the best she could. She spoke about the atrocities she oversaw, and Lima pointed out the small bits she had done to help. She had helped save the Muggle Born registry- she intentionally sabotaged the war efforts, controlled the most dangerous Death Eaters and hired incompetent wizards.

She was exhausted by the end of it. And relieved- feeling lighter than she had ever felt in her life.

She had told them everything- nearly all of the secrets she had held so close for so long. It was out in the open- a matter of public record. And they would judge her as they saw fit.

She didn't bother reading the prophet the next day- though the guards made it a point to tell her the headlines.

Murderess Tells All

Deranged Lestrange- Inside a Demented Mind

What Makes a Lestrange?

She received a visitor that day- the first she had ever been allowed.

Harry Potter.

She was struck by how young he was- he was barely 18 now. A child who held himself like a man who had seen too much.

"Good to see your swollen countenance was not permanent Potter." she greeted, eyeing him warily.

He laughed easily, taking a seat and smiling at her. "It was the best Hermione could do on such short notice," his eyes caught hers as his grin gave way to something more serious. "You helped us escape that day, at the Malfoy Manor," he said.

She shrugged, "I did nothing. If I recall it was an elf who did all of the work. Rather clever- I can honestly say no one could have planned that." she said.

He nodded, "You did other things. Small things, to buy us time."

"I have never done anything for you Potter." she said, a little more sharply than she intended.

He smiled sadly, nodding as he sat back a little. "You did help though. I saw it- Snape showed me."

She watched him carefully, her eyes narrowed. "I am not sure what you mean Potter." she said stiffly, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Here," he pulled out a folded up magazine and placed it in front of her. It had two pictures, one of Professor Snape, glaring at the camera as he stood next to the headmaster's desk. The other was hers, the picture they took the day they arrested her.

'Bravery Behind Enemy Lines' it read in bold print- 'Quibbler Exclusive interview with Harry Potter'

She sniffed suspiciously, flipping open the magazine.

The more she read the more irritated she became. Snape, the bloody two faced bastard had not died alone- he had died next to Harry Potter- using his final moments to pass on his memories. Memories which also contained information about her. Information that Harry Potter was now sharing with the world.

She flipped the magazine shut and pushed it back, feeling conflicted about the publication- she did not miss that Luna Lovegood was the editor of this piece. It was messed up, the whole situation.

"I wanted your permission before publishing it. That is just a mock up you see." Harry said, leaning forward.

"It's a free country Potter and you're the chosen one. You can say what you want." She said stiffly, still staring at the cover. Dumbledore's portrait was in the background- his face serene as Snape scowled.

"It's your life Cassiopeia- and this might not be my story to tell but I think it's an important story and one the world should know. Both of you deserve to have your stories told."

She shook her head, feeling tired and wishing they would sentence her already so she could begin wallowing in her own self pity. "I think it's nice that you asked Potter- that's more than anyone else has done- what I wish my solicitor had done. But I think it's also important for you to know that what I think and want is not relevant anymore- I gave all of that up when I turned in my wand and surrendered myself. You do what you think is best and i'll live with it. Now if that is all- I have a big day tomorrow and I would rather like to be alone with my thoughts if you will."

She stood before the Potter boy could say more, motioning to the guard that she was ready to go.

"Take care of Teddy," she said softly before leaving, her eyes staring straight ahead.

Xxx

She felt oddly calm the final day of her sentencing- facing the crowd once more, mildly amused by the amount of copies she saw of the Quibbler magazine. It seemed everyone had one, including her jailors. Good. She hoped Luna made a killing.

She sat quietly as Lima addressed the Wizengamot and the press.

"Cassiopeia Lestrange was as much a victim of her parents and her upbringing as anyone. Here is a child who was deprived of love and comfort, who was beaten and tortured, tagged like an animal and promised to serve as a soldier for a cause she understood nothing about.

Away from that influence she struggled, daily nightmares plagued her, she lived in fear of her mother and Lord Voldemort. When her fears were realised what choice did she have? She has been promised to this man, it was to serve him or die with no chance of hiding.

He manipulated her mind, twisting her memories and planting false ones. He tried to break her down and rebuild her more fully than he had ever done before.

And through this all she clung to a small part of herself. A small hint of resistance. She passed information that saved hundreds of lives, and she funnelled enough money to keep the resistance alive. She sabotaged plans and gladly took the punishment. She gave us identity cards, allowing even more to escape persecution. She couldn't save everyone. When it was clear that a person was doomed to a terrible death, she would do it herself ensuring a quick end for those who otherwise would have been tortured.

Is Cassiopeia innocent? I believe her to be as innocent as those under the influence of an Imperius Curse though she would disagree. She freely admits to her crimes. But does she deserve to be locked up forever? No. We need to look at the whole picture and act accordingly

Cassiopeia is no Lestrange. Cassiopeia is a Tonks and embodies everything Ted And Nymphadora Tonks died to protect

I urge in this case to use sense and to not punish out of vengeance but out of empathy

I rest."

The prosecutor took the centre stage next.

"Let us look at the facts today ladies and gentlemen and only the facts. Miss Lestrange has admitted to 37 murders in her lifetime. Her first crimes dating back to the age of 7. 37 people that we know of who are no longer with us today because of her actions. We have convicted others to life in prison for far less

But she has plead guilty to more than murder hasn't she? Assault, kidnapping, torture, and a slew of other war crimes.

No good deed can outweigh murder. No amount of lives saved replaces those lost. She has taken away lives and in return we should do the same.

If we want to rebuild this community, we need to be firm with those who broke it in the first place. We need to use her as an example of what we do to those who flaunt our laws. If we are lenient with her, it sets a bad precedent that we can not afford. I would urge this court to look at the facts and only the facts.

I rest "

It took the Wizengamot three days to decide her fate- arguing behind closed doors.

"Cassiopeia Lestrange please stand before the court."

She stood, her back straight and her chin raised. She would not hide from her punishment.

"Never have we faced such a dilemma as this one Miss Lestrange. We have heard testimony from extenuating factors- details about your life, your parents, and your upbringing. We understand that you may have never had a choice but to become what you are- and we are sympathetic to that. We see that you tried, in your own way to balance the scales.

And yet it also can not be denied that you played a pivotal role in this war and your actions likely ended the war sooner and with less bloodshed. Your actions indirectly saved hundreds if not more.

You are a murderer Miss Lestrange- and a Death Eater. Your crimes are both heinous and undeniable- we have sentenced others to life imprisonment for a fraction of the crimes that you have freely admitted to.

You served an organisation that values magic and magical purity above all else. Your kind policed and decided who was deserving of magic and who was allowed to perform it. Muggles were seen as a different species and muggle borns were seen as foreign usurpers who are unworthy of the magic they have.

The life that you have lived and the background you come from, your culture, magic is essential, it is a core identity, a way to mark yourself above others and used to assert your dominance and control.

Under subsection C paragraph 4 of International Convention of Statutory Magic of 1765 I, Griselda Marchbanks, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot Court of the United Kingdom, hereby strip you of your magic Miss Lestrange and release you on your own cognisance. Your wand will be held by the government until such time as your death in which case it will be passed on to your next living descendant.

You are banished from this world Miss Lestrange and you are not welcome here- never forget that.

And never forget your victims."

Cassiopeia jumped as the courtroom exploded in cries as the crowd's volume grew so loud that the silencing spell could no longer hold it.

"You will be released into the custody of your counsel. You will be subject to intense ministry scrutiny and subject to random searches at our will. You will present yourself to an- to an officer of the court- oh shut it!" She was red in the face as she had to shout over the roaring crowd, waving her wand trying to silence the oncoming tide. The best she could manage was to muffle it.

"If you are found using any magic or violating any magical law the court reserves the right to in prison you on Azkaban island in maximum security with no possibility of release. This is your only chance Miss Lestrange as I suggest you use it wisely.

I dismiss the Wizengamot"

Cassiopeia was numb as the Chief Warlock dropped her spell, allowing the tide of outrage and shock to spill across the courtroom filling it with a deafening roar. She watched in amazement as the shackles popped open- she felt dizzy with the shock and horror at the judgement. This wasn't right, how could this be right?

She followed Lima as she was led into another room and she dressed out of her Azkaban uniform in a haze. Lima had brought her clothes, just in case.

She clutched to Lima as she walked outside, the cool air on her face and the rain soaking through her clothes. Her legs felt weak and she was struggling to stand.

Andromeda was there, and so was Narcissa- estranged sisters coming together to help Lima support her as they walked her to the apparition point. The women clustered around her, shielding her from the huge crowds that had lined up outside of the courtroom. She stumbled in a haze, her eyes blurred as she took in the crowd. Some were supporters- she could see them holding signs, their sympathy in their eyes. Most were not- and she flinched when Andromeda had barely managed to deflect what looked to be a smoothie that had been hurled her way.

She cried when she clutched to Andromeda as she was dragged along with her apparition, unable to do it herself.

 _A/N Welp- This is finally out after several re writes- I had initially written this months ago and had a running tally of who would testify and what they would say. Naturally after reading it I hated it so I did a complete rewrite- and then re wrote that and the cycled continued. I also got distracted with some Drabbles of Bellatrix's childhood (in about 40 more pages maybe that'll become another fic god help me.) I am really curious about what you lot think of her sentence- I honestly was tempted to give her the life imprisonment, but I also think with the intervention of someone like Harry Potter and Lima, with the press so on their side- that a life without magic would be a fitting punishment. Especially to a pureblooded blood supremacist they think she is- that would be worse than death._

 _The epilogue is out now- a double header!_ _That's it- a trilogy all done and good- at the end of this chapter we are at approximately 380,046 or 846 pages. about 70% all written on an iphone and copied over to Google Docs which is mental._


	27. Chapter 27: Epilogue

Living without Magic had been difficult at first- much more difficult than she ever could have imagined. She never realised how much she had used it before- how casual it had been for her. For years she found herself reaching for her wand to perform a task mindlessly, and feeling the jolt of anxiety that shot through her system when she could not find it.

It felt like she was amputated, like a part of her was missing. There were a lot of things she had always taken for granted- for example boiling water in a kettle took much longer than the boil from her wand. Cooking was more difficult and time consuming when one could not simply charm the knives to chop the vegetables.

The worst was travel. She had never appreciated how big the country was, and how far away everything was geographically. Taking a train somewhere took ages- and traffic was even worse. It had been infuriating the first few years without Portkeys or Apparition. Airplanes were another experience altogether- hellishly uncomfortably and journeys that had taken seconds now took most of a day if not longer.

She was not welcome in the Wizarding World. The few times she had ventured into the outskirts of it she was met with scorn at best and open hostility at it's worst. She was also frequently in the tabloids- her appearance almost always causing a large to do in the local papers, usually dragging whomever she was with into the thick of it. She grew tired of the fanfair and the attention and decided to become a recluse to that world, and cut most of her ties.

She still had her friends, friends who ventured into the Muggle world to visit her. Lionel Spavin was a frequent visitor and occasionally a collaborator. She had given him all of her notes, her spells and her curses- all of her research, the good and the bad for safekeeping. She also gave him her box of notes from her time in old Yugoslavia- warning Spavin that it was best to destroy that research.

Lionel was the most successful over the years at bringing her back into the edges of the wizarding world. Teasing her with brain bending problems he faced at work, new mysteries he uncovered in the vaults, and general thoughts on spell structure. She could no longer perform magic but she could talk about it theoretically- even though it hurt her soul to do so. It was torture, being so close to something she missed, and to know she could never use it again.

But she survived- she adapted. She distracted herself with technology, buying a computer and was an avid consumer of Freeserve- back in the early days of the internet. MP3 players were game changers and now smartphones had changed the way she consumed media and communication. She had always been intrigued by technology and computers and she used this time to learn how it all worked. She enrolled in the local university as a mature student, taking classes in Information Technology and Software Engineering. It wasn't as compelling as theoretical magic had been, but she found the structure of scripting soothing and delightfully mind bending. She soon found work in it- casual and freelance- enough to keep her comfortable.

She kept in touch with her family, Draco and Narcissa. She had attended Draco's wedding, she bit her tongue as the society reporters spent the whole night trying to get an interview with her. She had invited Charlie as her plus one to the event, a move that scandalised Narcissa and angered Lucius so much that he refused to speak to the couple the whole night- a relative plus.

Draco had done well for himself, Astoria Greengrass was a progressive pureblood- and Draco had vowed that he would end the family prejudice with his children. They would teach their kids a better world view- a fairer one. Cassiopeia was proud of him.

Andromeda moved to Bath which was a short train journey away. She couldn't bear to live in that house any longer. It was filled with too many memories, too much sadness and sorrow. She started fresh with Teddy, raising him with the help of his extended family in Godric's Hollow- also in the west country- not that distance mattered for wizards. She was the only one who felt it when they were far away. The two women spoke daily, and visited weekly. They were closer than ever.

She met with Constance Green- her friend from school- monthly after the farmers market. They always sat in the market hall at a cafe and drank a cup of tea- catching up and talking about the wider muggle world as a whole. Constance could still use her magic but she rarely did, not with a muggle husband and soon to be child on the way. Cassiopeia was happy for her, and she was thankful they were able to remain friends after everything.

It was in 2002 when Cassiopeia realised her calling in this new life- a realisation she had while working with a particularly unruly teenager who was staying in the shelter. The boy had attacked another man, pulling a knife and threatened the staff.

Cassiopeia was on duty that night, a volunteer caretaker and she had witnessed the scene and had pushed her way into the middle of it. The boy was young and stupid- reckless and afraid- his eyes wild as he faced the perceived threats around him.

Her eyes lingered on the knife- a squat little thing knicked from the dinner service. He held it tightly and with little finesse, it was not a weapon he was comfortable with, it was more for intimidation than anything. Cassiopeia talked to him, tried to calm him down and de-escalate the situation. She would have succeeded if another guest of the shelter hadn't tried to take him down from behind. The boy saw the movement and was spooked, the knife glinting as he swung it through the air defensively.

Cassiopeia stepped in swiftly, her hand grabbing the knife and twisting the boys arm around him, kicking his feet out from beneath him.

She supported him as he fell to the ground slowly, and delicately plucked the knife out of his hand. He tried to fight against her, he yelled and he screamed bloody murder, and yet she remained firm, holding him tightly and gently, restraining him so he couldn't hurt himself or anyone around him.

The police had been called and he had been taken away, crying the whole time- raging- yelling. It had been his last chance she found out later while giving a statement to the police constable. He was orphaned, troubled, and difficult. No one would take him in, and after this stunt it seemed Juvenile Detention was his only option.

Cassiopeia called Lima that night much to her annoyance- it had been very early in the morning.

She knew she could help that boy, that she could give him the final chance. She understood better than anyone what he was feeling, the fear, paranoia, and anger- she had felt it all as well- hell without the help of Andromeda and Ted she likely would've had the same fate as him.

She bought a house in the suburbs of the city, and paid a ludicrous amount of money to various local politicians and charities to get credibility, but eventually the government signed off after a haphazard inspection of her home and a disinterested interview. She owned a group home- one that would hopefully specialise in troubled youth.

The boy who had attacked her with the knife was her first guest.

It hadn't been easy- but she had managed to get through to him, and he began to trust her. He needed stability and he needed safety- a sanctuary where he was free to be himself, free of judgement and with unquestionable support.

More came, and soon she had a bustling home filled with children of all backgrounds and ages. There were plenty of fights, thefts, police visits, and in one case a child had tried to burn down the house. But one by one, she managed to get through to them- usually after she had disarmed them each multiple times. It helped that they learned they could not hurt her, and they would lose every fight with her- in an annoyingly pacifist way.

Children came and went- sometimes moving to other foster homes, and occasionally to be adopted into their permanent families. She kept in touch with all of them, keen to ensure they were safe and happy. It was rarely easy- but she enjoyed every second of it.

The Weasleys as a whole were distant but friendly. They saw each other briefly on Holidays- exchanged presents politely when they would drop off Teddy. Teddy would spend the morning with her and Andromeda and then the evening with his extended family for holidays- with the Potters and the Weasley clan as a whole. Andromeda would spend the evening with Cassiopeia, with her delightful delinquents and misfits that she had fostered. Cassiopeia found being around them, in their house difficult- the memories were overwhelming and the magic was overpowering. She never lingered when they dropped off Teddy.

The Aurors visited less and less- in the first few years she could count on them searching her place at least twice a month, if not more. They followed her, always suspicious, eager to arrest her. As the years passed the visits became monthly, then quarterly- and now almost ten years on they were almost non existent. Once or twice a year she could expect someone to drop by from that world, they were always conspicuous- a warning that they were still watching, that they had not forgotten. She would smile and wave- mostly content to be away from the world.

Charlie was her main connection to the wizarding world. Travelling was more difficult for her than it was for him, on account of her not being able to charter Port Keys or apparate to Romania. He had offered to leave his job for her, to move back to Britain, but she steadfastly refused to allow him to do such a thing. If he left his career to be with her, well- she would leave him.

She had toyed with the idea early on of moving in with him in Romania- leaving the country behind and all of it's bad memories. But Andromeda was here, and so was Teddy. She couldn't leave her family- not after everything that happened. Her decision to stay was cemented when she started the group home, her future now tied even more tightly to her city and her new muggle community.

She and Charlie still saw each other frequently, perhaps a weekend or two every month- He would Floo to Andromeda's house in Bath and she would visit him there, or more frequently he would apparate to her place. Cassiopeia bought him a mobile phone and they spoke several times a week and when they were not speaking they were texting, sending each other pictures of their day, talking about everything and nothing.

They were not together in any official sense or even with a capital T. She did love him, and he loved her, and in a different life, or a different time she was sure they would be a couple again. For now they were the closest of friends, fond of each other, and perhaps one day, when they were older and retired- they would finally be together. For now they did not force it to be anything, each content with what they had of each other, and savouring their time together.

She volunteered at the local community center she had helped fund all those years ago- working at the homeless shelters and organising community fundraisers and drives. Most of her kids from her group were involved in that place in one form or another, either taking classes or helping in the garden, a few just liked the cafe and the quiet areas- they all found some type of purpose being around there.

Xxx

Cassiopeia spotted the boy a week before- when she was working at a food kitchen. He had been lurking outside- peeking in furtively.

Cassiopeia liked to think she knew the majority of the homeless and rough sleeping population in her city. She was a local community organiser and frequently worked with them to find them shelter, food and other services they were lacking.

She also knew most of the children who slept rough or who were at risk in the community. She had made it her job- ingratiating herself with the local authorities and turning her own home into a care home for wayward teens and wards of the state. She specialised in the tough cases- the kids who were particularly violent and antisocial.

She was therefore surprised to see a new child in her town, furtively looking around and carefully entering the line.

Her skin prickled when she felt something off about it- a wave of power was emanating from him, subtle but unmistakable. Magic.

She watched her colleagues as their eyes slid over the boy, their attention on the other patrons. The boy reached over to fill his plate with all of the food that did not require any contact with people. Mainly bread and salads- the hot food out of reach as they required human interaction. People who seemed oblivious to his existence.

Her face twitched as she filled two plates and informed her colleagues that she was taking her lunch. The boy had tucked himself in the corner, away from everyone else and devoured his food, his eyes scanning the room frequently.

He froze when his eyes met hers and she smiled. "No need to look so surprised- here." she placed the food in front of him, "thought you might like something warm- Mind if I join you?" she asked while taking her seat, effectively negating any objection he might have.

He was frozen in fear, his eyes wide and his face pale- "you can see me?" he whispered quietly.

She nodded, taking a bite of her food, "Your spell works on Muggles, but not on me. I am quite adept at detecting magic- I used to be something of an expert at it in a past life." She said quietly.

The boy paled even further and twitched as if he wanted to run. "Magic.." he whispered- his eyes wide.

She sighed, of course. Muggle born.

She carefully pulled a folded up piece of paper from her pocket, a remnant from an orgami art class earlier in the day at the community center. She swallowed- her eyes darting around quickly. In the last few years the Ministry's presence had lessened and she was certain they had all but forgotten about her- but it was still a very large risk she was about to take.

She leaned forward, dropped her voice- "Can you keep a secret?" she asked.

He nodded, intrigued despite himself.

She glanced around again, her nerves tingling. She used to know when there were Aurors around- their magic a shining beacon to her. She had become even more sensistive since she was forbidden from using magic herself. She was almost certian there was no one watching her today.

The muggles were another problem, they were in a room full of them. Luckily whatever charm the boy was inadvertently casting seemed to cover her when she went to sit with him. No one paid them any mind.

She covered the folded paper frog with her hand and focussed- feeling a familliar jolt of magic shiver along her spine and down her arm. The paper was animated briefly, looking around and hopping towards the boy, who caught it with a yelp- his eyes wide now with excitement isntead of fear.

"You're like me, you can do things too" he said excitedly. She smiled at him, clasping her now shaking hands as she looked around again quickly- expecting the might of the ministry to fall on her and drag her to Azkaban for her small display.

The memories of using magic faded over the last decade, she had forgotten the feeling if it. This had been the first time she had broken her sentence, and the thrill of just that little power sent all of those memories flooding back and she shivered- her stomach aching with desire to perform more- to feel that spark under her skin again.

The lifetime in Azkaban sobered her and she looked at the boy again, smiling cautiously.

"I am- or was. Not really allowed to do that anymore, so best not to tell anyone." She said, pushing the now inanimate frog over to the boy, "You can keep that if you want. I'm Cassiopeia- or Mildred- I go by both names." She said, "What's your name?"

The boy was suspicious once more, the paper frog disappearing into his pocket. "Why arent you allowed to do magic anymore." he carefully picked at his food, shovelling a few large bites in after a few hesitant tastes. She smirked, pleased- he had clearly been hungry.

"I broke the rules a long time ago,"

"There are rules?" he asked, his eyes sharp, a little bit worried.

She laughed, "Don't worry- how old are you kid?" she asked, continuing her own food.

He grew quiet once more, focussing on his food. She shook her head- it seemed the kid was intent on keeping his secrets to himself. Fair enough, she was a complete stranger afterall.

"Keep your secrets then- if you need food or a place to stay let me know- I am sure we can find you a bed-"

"I am not going to another group home-" he sounded terrified, pushing his food away and looking a second away from running. She raised an eyebrow, concerned.

The boy was clearly a runaway and had not had a good time of it.

"I don't blame you- I spent time in a group home when I was your age. It was horrible. I meant a place here- outside of the authorities if you want. I mean, normally we would have to report you, but that notice me not charm of yours would give us some leeway here."

He did not relax but he did continue eating, staring at her the whole time.

"I don't need your help." He said stubbornly, shovelling another bite into his mouth.

"Course you don't, you're a wizard with a pretty innate grasp on your powers it seems." she said casually.

The boy's eyebrows lowered, "A wizard?" he asked quietly, cautiously.

"Oh yeah, You're a wizard and I'm a witch- or was- we can do magic. There is a whole magical world out there kid, when you turn 11 you'll be formally introduced to it- and get to go to school to learn how to do magic. That's when the rules start to apply by the way."

"You- you're full of it" he said looking like he wanted to leave again.

"Let me guess kid- you can do things that you can't explain- when you're feeling angry, scared or happy. Things that can't be explained- say you summoned a dessert that you really wanted, or make things disappear. You can hide in plain sight with that charm you've got right now. I bet the Muggles- non magic folk that is- were not too understanding when they saw, probably punished you or were afraid of you and you ran away." She said, staring at the boy and looking for any reaction to her words.

His face twitched and he reddened, but remained silent as he sulked.

"Whatever your story is, you don't have to tell me- you don't have to tell anyone. But- if you come back here tomorrow, i'll bring you a treat from our world- something called a Chocolate Frog- and tell you a little bit more about magic. Sound like a deal?"

He glowered and finished his food, pushing it away and shrugged, his eyes staring hard at the table.

She shrugged- figuring that was the best reaction she was gonna get. "Catch ya later kid, and if you're looking for a bed- we got a few here every night- just pop round a little later and im sure you can snag one." She left the table and the strange boy, fighting every instinct to go back to him, to help him further.

He was suspicious and it would do no good to force her help onto him. He would only run away, scared. He had to come to her.

She spent the whole night thinking about the boy, alone on the streets- at least he had eaten one good hot meal she tried to console herself. And it was summer- the nights were warmer, rain slightly less frequent.

He would come around, eventually. With the help from a few of her kids and steady persistence, and perhaps a dash of sweet bribery- she was sure she would help the child.

Her mouth twitched into a smile, content with her new challenge.

It would be nice to have a young wizard around- especially one so near Teddy's age.

fin

 _a/n And that's it- Part III finishing at 464 pages in google docs- we are close to 900 for all three parts! Blooming heck I never thought I would finish this or even imagined what it couldve become! Thank you all for your support over the years- Special Shout out to some repeat reviewers -brnicholas for Parts 1 and 2 with very keen insights that I greatly enjoyed reading. Beesy for showing support multiple times danke shön! I really can't stress enough how great your thoughts are and how grateful I am that you took the time to leave reviews- AvalonTheLadyKiller - Thanks so much for binge reading this- I hope it was worth it in the end! TinyYetMighty- Thanks for your thoughtful review- I actually have not read Stieg Larsson's books, but I think I might now! I honestly dont know where the inspiration came for this character beyond the very very early idea of frame of reference from the podcast invisibilia (amazing- new season is up now). I took that idea and ran, and spent waaaay too much time reading some pretty dark psychological experiments from the early 20th century- I also read lots of account from survivors of abuse, trauma, PTSD, and then really spent some time trying to think through the mind of someone like Bellatrix Lestrange- that blind fanaticism mixed with psychopathy- and how normal people would react to years of dealing with that._

 _Shout out to the other folks who left reviews- Amelia, Ntbaldy, Coffee Targaryen, Jensbertino, Phoenix 1023, , Changsterfan, rosebaby123, bookworm125, and the multiple guest reviews!_

 _In other news, all of that time in Bellatrix's head means there might be another story about HER life that will also be canon(ish) and follow in line with this story. Give me a few months head start on it, but it will probably be coming, it will be M and explicit in other ways this one was not._

 _Let me know what you guys think- last chance as I mark this complete and forget about it (until I inevitably go over typos- this was literally written mostly on an iphone with no beta)- also I am pretty open to any and all questions- and if there are any particular scene you would like to see, let me know- i'm also open to one shots. There are lots of little scenes i've written that never made it into this main story line._


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